


Undertale Copy #88 *Old Version*

by KimberlyLikesCherries



Series: The Path to Yellow [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 43: beware the ‘intrusive thot’, 88 keeps ripping the script, Blue strong boi, Chapter 41 was so hard to write, DestructiveDeath - Freeform, Dream needs to work on his timing, Error x chocolate, Error: Forced God of Destruction, GlitchyDeath - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, I baked you a pie, I just want to hug Error, Inspired by Harrish6, Nightmare/88 ship has sailed, Nightmare’s gang, No script we die like men, PAIN FLAVOR, Panic attack in chapter 4, Script? What script?, The Voices are Creators, You are Sans, error just goes with it, just friendship making, no ships for awhile, oh boy what flavor?, papyrus is a child, star sans, tagging as I go probably, why can’t my kids be normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 58,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23257198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyLikesCherries/pseuds/KimberlyLikesCherries
Summary: We've all heard of that cliche trope where the main character is suddenly thrown into a whole new world that they've read about or watched; so waking up in that exact situation with a very familiar skeleton monster calling you brother wasn't completely out of left field.Except it was, and this isn't normal Undertale- This is your Undertale. Worse yet, you never finished this world, and that's caught someone's attention.
Relationships: Cross/Killer, Error/Reaper, Horror/Dust, Nightmare/88, Sans/Reader, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: The Path to Yellow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706509
Comments: 1257
Kudos: 459





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, just what have I gotten myself into.

In a room, leaning comfortably against a windowsill and typing on a laptop, sat a young adult surrounded by pillows. It was raining heavily outside, the perfect time to focus on a story they had been wanting to type up for awhile now; in fact, it was probably the last chance they’d get to type this up before spring break ended and essays became their whole life again.

But right now, in this small moment, this young adult was immersed in the plot reveal they were typing up as the main character fought against their current adversary. Thunder boomed around the author, rain pounded against the roof, but it was the strange sound of the house powering down that brought them out of their immersion.

“What? A power outage?” They wondered, looking around their messy room, “Welp, good thing I’ve been charging my laptop this whole time...oh.” They couldn’t see the keys.

The lamp was off, and the natural light of the heavily covered afternoon sun made it hard to tell what was an N or an M on the keyboard.

“Damn.” The author sighed. They had just gotten to the good part; how was the author going to remember what is supposed to happen if they can’t type it up?

The author reluctantly looked over to their phone, which sat innocently on the TV stand charging: or, well, had been charging anyway. They could use it while they waited for the power to come back, something the author had done many times before, but…

“I really don’t want to see it right now.” They muttered, thinking of their other story.

It was a project that they had been working on as a gift to their friend, before both parties had a falling out; now the author could barely look at it without getting mopey and rereading it to relive the feelings they’d had while they typed it up.

The whole thing had been made with love; every word meant to brighten a day, every character meant to reassure- A feel good story, fluffy and with lots of hurt/comfort. Now it felt like a letter from the past to themselves, and the author really didn’t care to have their own edited advice apply to them in this instance. 

So they avoided it, left it to gather digital dust while they tried to move on with their life; until now.

“Pffft, it’s not a big deal; I just won’t look at it.” they reassured themselves as they got off the bed, laptop safely moved to the side. The bed protested under their shifting weight and a muffled thump came from the old cream carpet, the sounds loud in the absence of the familiar zing of electricity and obnoxious click clack of keys, but the rain prattled on and the storm still raged above.

The author hesitated for a second, anxiety screaming, but sucked it up and grabbed the phone.

“Alright. Notes, notes, notes.” They thought, clicking the folder and shuffling to the right page the app sat in. They clicked on the app and brought their thumb up to press “New Note”- but they hesitated, eyes caught on the title of that dreaded story.

“The Path to Yellow,” They read out loud, then scoffed, “Really, what was I thinking?” But they knew exactly what they’d been thinking. Yellow was their friends favorite color, and one the author associated with happy emotions; it only made sense that a story made for a friend be named with them in mind.

They missed their friend more and more everyday, and this story was probably the closest the author could get to them at this point. Would it really be so bad to read the story one more time?

Forgetting the reason they had even grabbed their phone in the first place, the author tapped the title and opened the note.

BANG!

A large flash of light filled the room, sparks flying as the old cream carpet muffled a large thump.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me so much trouble, I swear.

“Brother! Brother wake up! You promised to take me for nice-cream today!”

“Five more minutes Pap.” A voice groaned from the other side of the door. “Pap” took exception to that and threw open the door, which slammed against the wall with a loud BANG.

“NYEEEEH!” He screeched, his only warning before Papyrus made a running leap for the lump in the bed sheets.

“Oof!” Except when he landed there was a distinct lack of brother under him, and Papyrus had only a second to realize his older brother’s plan when a bony pair of hands lifted the babybones high into the air, laughing as he whined and wiggled.

“That’s what you get for trying to squish your big bro, Papyrus!”

“Shortcuts are cheating!”

“All's fair in love and nice-cream, bro.”

“Nyeh!” responded the offended wiggle worm.

Sans sighed, amused, “Alright, alright. Go put on your jackets and I’ll be right down.”

He sat his little brother on the bed and laughed when Papyrus launched off it with a war cry, running out the room and slamming the door closed behind him. That was twice now; he was going to have to talk to Papyrus about slamming doors again.

Sans wandered to the dresser and pulled the top drawer open, completely ignoring the pile of yellow and black fabric beside it.

“What color do I want today?” He asked sarcastically, “Blue? Green? Purple looks good.”

Sans threw his night clothes into the fabric pile and put on the purple sweater, then a random pair of black shorts he had in mass quantities. He didn’t even bother looking in the mirror before leaving his room, already knowing what he’d see.

“Papyrus!” he called, watching his brother hop up and down from his spot on the landing, “That doesn’t look very cold weatherly.”

Papyrus stopped jumping and looked back up to his brother.

“I can’t get the scarf.” He pouted with his arms crossed standing next to the coat rack. Sans wished he had a camera or something, this would make great blackmail material when his brother got older and had a datemate to impress.

Sans took a shortcut down to Papyrus and grabbed the infamous scarf off the hook. Just as he started to wind the scarf around his brother’s neck, Papyrus pointed at his sweater. 

“Sans! Your shirt is changing colors!” He shouted excitedly.

Sans looked down and, sure enough, his sweater was halfway through dying itself a soft sunshine yellow. He wasn’t surprised, but Sans hadn’t realized Papyrus hadn’t known about it yet.

“Hey, would you look at that.” He humored, winding the scarf playfully around his brother’s head, “Bet you can’t guess why.”

Papyrus squinted past the red fabric in his face and patted Sans’ chest.

“It’s not paint.” He wondered out loud. Sans smirked and agreed.

“Nope, no paint here.”

“Dye?”

“Nope.” Sans denied. Finished with the scarf, he moved on to shoes; grabbing his bro’s pair from the shoe rack and kneeling down to help Papyrus put them on.

“Crayon!” 

“Pfft! Crayon? How does that work?” He asked. Okay! shoes are on, time to grab his own stuff, He thought, finally standing and grabbing his own jacket.

“Then what is it?!” Papyrus squeaked, taking his brother’s hand as Sans opened the front door. Sans let Papyrus walk out first before turning and locking the door behind him. He didn’t have to- Snowdin was a pretty safe place like that- but some habits from his life before were still around and Sans couldn’t bring himself to stop all of them.

Sans turned back and stared at his bro with a huge (probably rather evil looking) grin.

“No.” His brother denied, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Aww, come on bro, it’s so obvious!” Sans teased.

“No!” Papyrus insisted, making him smile wider.

“It’s-”

“NO!”

“Maaaagic~”

Papyrus let out a loud ‘NYEH’ of despair and fell back into the snow, and Sans couldn’t help but laugh big, obnoxious snorts and giggles.

“B-bro! Bro come on, w-we gotta- ha!- get the-” Sans snorted, then quickly lifted a hand to try and stop the sound, “-Nice c-cream!” 

His little brother whined and flailed around in his Papyrus shaped snow angel, only making Sans laugh harder.

“O-okay, I guess I’m going- hehe!- alone!” And then Sans started off on his own.

“What- Sans?” Papyrus called, “Sans, wait! Brother, I’m stuck!”

This was how most of their days went when Sans wasn’t working at his post; making sure to spend every free moment with his little brother while he could- and boy could Papyrus make him laugh! But it was only a matter of time before things started to happen, and from what Sans could remember from his days as this world’s creator (don’t even get him started on that) it was only a matter of time before the human fell and started the Resets; and the Genocide Runs.

Stars, Sans was not looking forward to that part of the timeline. He hadn’t written that part of the story at all, but he knew he had mentioned bits of it and apparently that's all it took to set things into stone down here; like the fact that the Sans of this world hadn’t been big of the number side of science so much as the How’s and Why’s.

(If you could have seen his face when Papyrus asked how magic works and Sans had actually known the answer. Seriously, that was some freaky stuff! Right out of the Twilight Zone!)

It was for this reason alone that Sans went to what was probably the most boring job on earth everyday; on time, everytime, and for five hours at least. It was the most dedicated Sans had been in either life, and it was mind numbing work, but Sans was honestly too scared not to do it. He wasn’t willing to risk his little brother just because he didn’t feel very good that day, or wanted an extra day of down time.

And then there was the...other thing.

This world wasn’t finished. He’d actually started on the final scene where the barrier broke, but then he had that fallout with his friend and-

It was supposed to be a happy moment for monsters, but Sans as the author had been so upset that all he wrote turned bitter or halfhearted on the page. If it had been any other story, he would have just accepted whichever one read better, but it didn’t seem right to end it like that; he wouldn’t have given it to his friend with a half-ass ending, so why should he lower his standards when he couldn’t give it to them? 

So Sans just didn't end it, something he deeply regrets now as he has no idea what that means for the world around him and lowkey has a panic attack about it almost everyday.

He really hated his past self some days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take this violent marshmallow off my hands please. He needs atleast three hours of cuddles and ten art projects to destroy.

Error had been minding his own business, destroying one of Ink’s newest unstable creations as fate decreed, when The Creator himself popped up only feet away swinging that stars awful paintbrush around in Error’s face.

How Error missed the eyesore of a skeleton, he has no idea. He can only assume Ink was trying a new stealth tactic someone had suggested again and was really wishing they wouldn’t for his HP’s sake. Error liked his body uninjured, thank you very much.

Alas, today was another day of injuries, and Ink was being unusually brutal- guess he really liked this AU this time around. Oh well, Error wasn’t sticking around when his job was already pretty much done.

Subtly Error opened a portal behind his back, thinking about Blue’s AU; it had been awhile, so maybe Blue wouldn’t mind a visitor?

“ERROR!” Ink raged, and Error dodged to the side just in time to watch Ink’s back disappear into the portal he’d just made. He heard a crash and a shrill screech. Whoops; maybe Blue won’t be that upset? 

Error quickly closed the portal behind the rainbow abomination, marveling at his luck. Now he has a moment to choose his next target in peace.

Error opened a window to The Code and looked for something easy; something small, underdeveloped, and unstable. After that very unappreciated interruption, Error deserved something easy...which he found almost instantly.

Okay, either lady luck decided Error needed a break, or karma is about to backhand him so hard. He hoped it was the first one; Error really needed a break.

Undertale Copy #88? Doesn’t Ink ever get tired of making the same thing over and over? Error scoffed, Wait- it’s Ink we’re talking about.

Error opened up a fresh portal and took his first couple of steps into the new AU. Looking around, first impressions said it was a typical Undertale world; snow, trees, cave ceiling. He closed the portal and took another step in, only to trip when his leg gave out under him and fell face first into the snow.

And the other shoe drops.

Error sputtered and pushed himself up, cursing when it sent a twinge up his traitor leg.

“Need a hand?”

Error jumped, pushing himself up and away from the voice and promptly falling on his ass when his bad leg refused to cooperate- Or, well, he would have had a pair of skeletal hands not shot out and grabbed onto his forearms.

“Careful, careful.” Their owner warned. Error shoved them off the second he got his feet steady.

“Don’t touch me!” He growled, dusting himself off. He was going to say something probably very rude when he finally caught sight of the voice’s owner.

“Easy, just didn’t want you to fall again.” The yellow wearing Sans tried to assure, hands held out in front of him in a gesture of peace (or was it surrender?)

“Are you good?” They asked, eyeing him worriedly. Error unoriginally decided to call him 88.

“I’m fine!” Error snapped, voice glitching harshly.

The other flinched, but shrugged it off. 

“If you say so, my dude.” And it was the strangest thing, but 88 actually started to walk away.

“H-hey! Wait! You’re just going to leave me here?” Error demanded. A great deal of Sans across the Multiverse had gone on the defensive just at the sight of him, so just what kind of Sans was this? 

88 turned and gave him a weird look, “I mean, you can come with me if you want. I’ve got Hot Chocolate at home if you want some?”

…

Error started walking briskly toward 88, and then walked right past him; completely forgetting about his leg.

“Hey, slow down!” 88 called out with a smile, “You don’t even know where I live!”

And that’s how the Destroyer of Worlds found that, for some reason unknown to him, the hot chocolate here was unbelievably good.

Okay, the company was kind of nice too. 88 hadn’t really even said all that much besides “Have a seat,” and “Please don’t eat that, it can’t be good for you,” when he took a chunk out of the mug earlier.

But that was kind of a problem too, because that meant 88 still hadn’t asked who he was or how he got here.

“How’s your leg?” 

Error turned quickly to 88, 

“How’d you know my leg was hurt?” He demanded. 88 raised a non-existent eyebrow and pointedly looked down at said leg. Error followed his stare and saw a giant fracture starting from his knee down to his ankle. Oh.

“It’s literally impossible to miss it, dude.” 88 sighed, “I’m honestly not sure how you’re not screaming right now.”

“High pain tolerance,” He offered automatically, “It’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Huh…” 88 stared at it for a second before sitting their mug down on the table between them and standing up, “Stay there for a sec, I’mma grab some first aid thingys.”

“Wha- no, wait-” And they’re gone; shortcutted away before he could even finish comprehending their sentence.

Error sighed, a strange feeling bubbling up from his soul. Not even an hour ago he had been prepared to tear 88’s world apart into itty bitty little pieces, and now he was sitting in that same Sans’ house getting freely given chocolate and an offer for healing- which he was totally going to turn down the minute 88 came back.

It almost made him feel...guilty.

(Error still took the chance to finish 88’s drink.)

A single bit of monster candy fell from nowhere into his lap, and Error jerked his head up to see the taller Sans leaning over him from behind. Error quickly shortcutted into a defensive position a few feet away, using the dining table as a barrier between the two.

88 looked a bit taken back at the reaction, and the two stared at each other for a minute in silence.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried.” 88 finally said, sitting a box down next to his empty mug on the table. He gestured between the box and the fallen bit of candy on the floor.

“Unfortunately this is the best I got. The stronger stuff would take an actual healer, and I kind of get the feeling you wouldn’t appreciate a stranger all up in your space.” 

“You’d be right.” Error agreed. He used a bit of string magic to grab the sweet on the floor, not willing to risk falling in front of 88 for a second time. The other made a surprised hum at the little show of power and grabbed their mug, absently moving to take a sip only to frown and look into his cup.

“Did I finish this?” Error heard him ask himself. Error shoved the candy into his mouth, wrapper and all, trying to hide the guilty smirk he knew was forming. 88 contemplated on it for a moment before shrugging and sitting the cup back down.

“So? How is it?” He asked. This time Error was the one to give him a strange look.

“Haven’t you had one before?”

“Not as far as I can remember. This is mostly for my little brother Papyrus,” 88 smiled, “My brother is real cool, but sometimes he hurts himself showing off.”

“What about you? You can’t honestly say you’ve never gotten hurt.” Error asked.

“Nah, I just let it do it’s own thing. It ain’t worth using healing items on scrapes that’ll be gone in a day or two.” 

Error gave him a pointed look, “And yet you’d have me do just that?”

“That,” 88 pointed at his leg, “Is not a small scrape; and probably feels like hell whether you realize it or not. Besides, you’re a guest and a new friend; I don’t like leaving friends hurt if I can fix it.”

“...Friend?” Error asked, finally sitting back down at the table and drinking what was left of his precious beverage; 88 following suit.

“Yup. Seems I like your company enough to upgrade you from a stranger, even if I still don’t know your name.” 

Error choked and coughed, hot chocolate shooting out of his nose and eye sockets. 88 shot up and rushed to the kitchen before coming back with a slightly damp rag. He handed it off to Error and started patting his back while Error coughed.

The patting was pretty uncomfortable, but Error found he appreciated the sentiment behind it just enough to tolerate it at the moment.

Finally his coughs tapered off and 88 took back his previous position at the table.

“Well that was something.”

“Sorry.” Error apologised, feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Nah dude, it’s not a problem.” his friend(?) tried to reassure.

Error grimaced and looked at the mess of spilt chocolate around him. 88 saw his look and sighed, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

“If you really want to make it up to me, you can tell me your name.” He offered.

Error thought it over; he hadn’t actually meant to keep his name from the other but now that he was thinking about it, was it even a good idea to share it? What if it got 88 into trouble with the “Light Sans”? Is it even worth the trouble when this world wasn’t likely to last longer than a year? Was it worth the possible pain he’d feel later if he came back and found his “friend” dead?

He opened his mouth and prepared to say, well, anything that wasn’t actually his name- but then his mouth ran out ahead of him again.

“Error.” Shit.

88 blinked, then frowned. It occurred to Error that maybe his reputation had proceeded him again and he felt himself starting to sweat under his jacket.

“Sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. Can you say it again?” 88 asked.

“I said, my name is Error.” He said a bit louder, a bit irritated at having to repeat himself.

88 rested his head on his palm, and leaned forward in his seat.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you then Error. My name is Sans.”

Oh, right. I guess he doesn’t know that technically I’m Sans too. Error thought. I could tell him...but I don’t really want to?

He decided to compromise.

“I’m going to call you 88.” Error stated. The Sans gave him an incredulous look.

“What? Why?!” He sputtered; Error thought it was kind of funny.

“You look like an 88.” He...teased? Was he actually messing with the other? Huh.

“What does that even mean?!” 88 demanded loudly, but the slight laughter in his tone told Error he wasn’t actually upset.

When he finally had to go, Error left the house like a normal person for the first time- through the front door. He opened a portal to the Anti-Void a few yards away from the house feeling lighter than he had in awhile, and decided to look back at the place he’d just spent several hours in.

88 was standing in the doorway, watching and waving when Error looked at him.

Error smiled and decided that he’d try and come back in a couple days. Maybe he’d tell 88 about the multiverse then?

Yeah, Error’ll tell him then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, yo. There’s mention of nightmares and panic attacks here. I’m still trying to figure out the tagging thing, so I wanted to warn y’all. There’s a brief (unreliable?) summary of events in the end notes.

Sans woke up with a gasp, terrified; he laid in his bed frozen stiff, eyes jumping to every shadow in the room.

Nothing, no one, it was just him.

Sans sighed and relaxed; It was just him and his stars awful nightmares again. Mentally he laughed at himself.

You're a full grown adult and you still get spooked by a bad dream, he thought.

Sans rolled onto his side and pulled the blankets higher up so that they sat covering most of his face. A few minutes later he was already dozing back off.

His hands didn’t stop shaking until at least an hour later, though.

—————

The next time Error visited his humble abode, Sans or, as he reluctantly accepted being called, 88 made sure to get a good look at his friend’s injured leg.

Turns out his friend wasn’t lying about his healing rate, and Error was as good as new.

“Dude, that is so cool.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yup. Also kind of scary, but in a ‘how does that even work’ kind of way.” 

“I thought you said it was the same for you?” Error asked. Sans- ugh, okay, fine- 88 pointed at the freshly healed leg.

“Not like that, I don’t. Whatever you’re made of is some crazy powerful stuff,” 88 grinned, “Teach me your ways, oh mighty Error, so that I too can heal from serious injuries in a day!”

Error gave him an unimpressed look.

“I can’t teach you what comes naturally to me.”

“Yeah?” 88’s grin turned sharp, “Sounds like you haven’t tried before; or maybe, could it be that you're scared?”

Error twitched (glitched?) and 88’s smile turned smug. Hook, line, and shinker, he thought.

“Fine!” Error shouted, “You want to learn, you better watch real closely!”

And then magic strings came out of his fingers.

88’s first thought was, “Dude, what the hell. What does that have to do with healing?” The second thought was, “Wait, is the Destroyer of Worlds actually going to teach me his signature move?”

Yes, 88 knew who Error actually was. Things may look a bit different from the various fan art and animations people had posted while he was still a human, but at this point it was almost expected; Art was always from the perspective of the artist, after all. 

Just take a look at his own world. It was almost exactly how his past self imagined it to be, right down to the color of his brother’s favorite shirt- which, hey, atleast he chose a tolerable shade of orange while he had the chance. 88 will admit that Error was somewhat an exception to this rule, but only because he’d imagined his friend to be more...verbally aggressive? Like the chihuahua mix his best friend had that liked to bark it’s little head off like it wanted to eat you but was probably just the English equivalent to shouting “HUMAN, SOMEONE AT DOOR. GET DOOR SO OREO CAN SLEEP.”

“Hey! Are you even paying attention?” Error demanded; and when he focused back on the dark skeleton, 88 was a bit shocked to see the previously small strands of magic stretched high up to the ceiling in the form of a swing and holding Error’s weight like it was nothing. Actually, with the way he was swinging on it, Error’s strings might as well have been steel cables.

That is so unfair.

“How are you doing that?” 88 asked, walking up to his smuggly smiling friend. Error shrugged and threw jazz hands at 88.

“Maaaaagic~”

Error grinned (maybe even giggled) at 88’s sour expression. For all the times he heard 88 use that exact line on his Papyrus, he never seemed to like it being used on him.

88 knew exactly what he was doing too, and groaned loudly, “Oh, the karma! My dear sweet Error, how you hurt me so!”

“Hey, easy on the insults.” He snarked.

“Oh sorry, let me rephrase,” 88 took a dramatic breath, “Error! My greatest adversary, strongest foe; doth thou realize the betrayal besieged (“‘Besieged’?”) upon mine own heart?”

Error deadpanned, “You don’t have a heart.”

“Pfft, rude! I’ll have you know I was a human in a past life!” 

Error barked out a laugh and 88 faked an offended huff before turning back to theorize the mechanics of Error’s strings.

Heh, string theory.

88 reached out and stopped just short of actually touching the glowing strands, turning to face a smiling Error.

“Is this okay?” he asked; Error shrugged.

“It won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Good enough, 88 thought with a hum. Carefully he poked a string, ready for any kind of backlash- which didn’t happen. Huh.

“So it’s not purely a-” He cut himself off quickly and pretended not to hear Error’s questioning grunt; It really wouldn’t do to reveal that he knew more about his friend than he’d been told. 88 covered his silence by furthering his examination; picking and poking, and even wrapping his hand in some loose strands to test their flexibility and strength.

In other words, he was playing with it- and while he was playing with it something unexpected happened; the string wrapped around his palm started turning yellow.

“Uh…” 88 glanced hesitantly over to Error, who seemed to have fallen into some sort of trance while watching 88’s hand. He was also making some kind of sound, like a growl but softer and more droning. It was oddly soothing and familiar, but 88 was pretty sure he had a bigger mystery to solve; like why the heck his fabric curse was slowly crushing out the blue.

“Hey, Error…?” No response. Well this is a bit worrying, he thought.

“Wait, can’t I just-” 88 tried to pull his hand free, but the strings closed in like a chinese finger trap, “No, no I can not.” 

“Error.” he tried again, “Error!”

By that point the strings were more yellow than blue and was maybe a foot away from reaching Error’s hands. 

“That cannot be good.” 88 muttered to himself. He tried to unwind it with his free hand, but it was like the strings had a mind of their own and only held on tighter; it actually even started to hurt.

Honestly, this would be hilarious if he was just stuck, but right now he feels like he’s about to seriously hurt his only friend in this world, and that very same friend was completely out of it. 

88 could use his other hand to shake Error, but his friend hated being touched. If 88 did shake him out of his trance and it worked, there was still a huge chance that Error was going to be super upset.

Maybe he’d be so upset that he’d leave and never come back, he thought, and I’ll be alone again except worse because Papyrus is going to wonder why Error hadn’t been by in awhile and I’d have to explain and- and it would be my fault-

88 started shaking, breath coming in short gasps. Oh no, oh no; not now!

Error finally snapped out of it when he felt something grab his jacket sleeve and almost tug him down to the floor. At the same time there was a thunk on the floor beside him, and when Error looked he immediately dismissed his threads- unknowingly disbanding it just second away from the yellow reaching him.

Hand finally free, Error watched 88’s arm swing down and grab onto the fabric over his sternum. That and his fast breathing was all Error needed to know that 88 was halfway to passing out from a panic attack. 

He quickly knelt beside 88, his free hand hovering and fluttering around his friend’s shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked. The last thing Error remembered was watching 88 messing with his strings.

“Er- Error,” 88 wheezed. He was shaking so badly that Error could hear bones rattling.

“88. Hey, 88!” He waited until the lighter skeleton looked at him, “I need you to try and breath, can you do that?”

The other shook their head no.

Damn. 

“Yes you can,” he insisted, “Just copy me.”

Except 88’s eyelights were starting to fizzle, and he couldn’t seem to focus on Error at all. There was a simple way to end this, a real easy solution- but was Error willing to do it?

For a moment, all he could hear was his friend’s shallow gasps and sobs, and all he could see was the desperate look 88 gave him.

He’d live, Error decided just as he shuffled forward on his knees and wrapped his arms around the other.

He flinched and started glitching, but when Error heard the skeleton in his arms take their first real deep breath of the last few minutes he knew he’d made the right choice.

“It’s okay, 88. You’re okay.” Error soothed, slowly starting to rock him side to side.

It took a while, but eventually the yellow skeleton calmed down and they both ended up just holding each other on the floor.

“Error?”

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Are you actually hugging me?” 88 teased.

Error decided that if his friend could tease him, then he could shove 88 off without any guilt. So he did.

88 just laid there for a second on the floor, looking at his ceiling; then he looked at Error.

The two made eye contact, and for no reason whatsoever burst into giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wanted a summary of events!
> 
> 88: *has a nightmare*  
> 88: *decided their a badass and goes back to bed*
> 
> *later*  
> 88: *pets strings*  
> Error: Yo this is so relaxing *pretty much falls asleep with eyes open*  
> 88: *gets hand tangled*  
> 88: uh, error?  
> Error:  
> 88: oh no.
> 
> I told y’all I wanted to hug Error. I just never said it was purely for his benefit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags as of this chapter are updated! I still don’t know how to change the completion status! I woke up with a need for excessive feelings!

Error didn’t visit for a while after that.

Sans worried that it was because of him and his stupid panic attack, but Error had left in high spirits; had even had three cups of hot chocolate before leaving. He’d even waved back this time before he left.

Error would have told him if he was uncomfortable, right?

But this was also the same skeleton that showed up one day with a massive fracture in his leg and only noticed it when Sans had pointed it out. (By the way, he still doesn’t know what monster candy taste like and never found out if it helped his friends injury; like, at all.)

It was making him anxious, and Papyrus was starting to notice.

[insert montage of his little brother’s new found love of scaring the ever loving shit out of his poor big brother. Go on, imagine it. I’ll wait.]

Oh, and if that wasn’t bad enough, guess who decided to join monsters down here in good old Snowdin? That’s right buckos, the time shenanigans have begun. 

Take right now for example: Sans woke up today refreshed, somewhat mentally prepared for the day, and about five seconds before Papyrus accidentally invented the John Cena meme while trying to wake Sans up.

Sans, of corse, got a bruised side and a very sorry little brother when he finally rolled out of bed and curled into a ball of pain on the floor. Good times.

Apparently Papyrus took this somewhat badly, and insisted on helping Sans with everything in some kind of quest to “Redeem himself!” (Aka; not feel guilty anymore.) This lead Sans to the kitchen where he planned on teaching Papyrus how to actually cook (in the guise of repayment) before Undyne or Mettaton Reruns ever hand the chance.

It was a fool proof plan, until Sans opened the fridge and realized you couldn’t really make “breakfast-anything” without butter; which he didn’t have. Apparently past Sans had forgotten to run by the shop yesterday before using the last of a lot of things making dinner.

Curse you, past Sans!!

So he told Papyrus they were going on an epic side quest for groceries. Hey, if little bro wants to starts a campaign in some weird need to reassure himself that he didn’t actually almost break his big bro’s ribs, then who was Sans to deny him? Just before he left, he took a glance at the old clock on the wall. 9:37am, cool.

So the two skeletons went to the store; they did that, that was a thing. It’s not the beginning of some elaborate joke or anything.

Sans had literally just handed Papyrus the lightest bag while they left when-

-He opened the fridge, and found out past him had used all the ingredients making dinner last night.

...Wait. 

Sans looked around. 

No. 

Sans looked at the clock on the far wall.

9:30am.

No!

He had no butter, no ingredients, and a little brother on a quest for forgiveness. 

Sans took a deep breath. 

It’s okay, he told himself, you just- have to do it all over again! No big deal. I’m sure the kid won’t mess up again at the same place.

So he did it all over again. Gathered a motivated Papyrus, walked to the store, picked out and bought groceries, handed off a bag to his little bro-

-and stared into the fridge.

Sans turned to the clock; 9:30am. He turned away from the clock.

He resisted the urge to scream.

Sans tried it three more times. Each time the exact same way, but slightly more efficient. He even got them out sooner and managed to walk a few feet out of the store!-

-and ended up staring into a very sad fridge. 

9:30am.

Sans literally could not move; that’s how close to launching headfirst into a blender he was. Inside, his thoughts were just an internal monologue of, “Don’t kill the child. It’s not a Genocide run. Wait until the Genocide run.”

He actually stood there so long that a Save was reloaded- which he only noticed because the fridge door handle he was crushing was suddenly not in his hand anymore.

“...”

Papyrus tore into the kitchen doorway- archway?- screaming excitedly.

“Brother! Error is back!”

“Is he? That’s nice bro.” Sans replied, absently smiling at the empty insides of the fridge and imagining something that made him...very, very happy.

Let it not be said that Papyrus isn’t a smart child. He got one good look at his brother’s face and turned right back around.

“Wow, that is the most terrifying face I’ve ever seen you make.” A glitchy voice commented.

Sans turned to look at his friend very slowly. 

“Uh.”

And then he shortcutted the foot or two between them and grabbed Error by the shoulders.

“Gck!”

“Error I swear to fuck that I will murder this child.”

Error glitched and laughed anxiously, “Isn’t that a bit harsh? What did Papyrus do- Ack!”

“The Human Child, Error!” He said, shaking the other frantically back and forth, “I’ll kill him! Murder him before he can even leave the Ruins!”

“T-t-them.” Error corrected through a vocal glitch.

“Right now that child is five seconds away from being an it, Error.” Sans grin turned manic, “And we really don’t want that, right? R i g h t ?”

“Right, okay,” Error shoved 88’s hands off, “Y-y-you need to take a moment and breath.”

“Why?”

“Because the 88 I know wouldn’t have scared his Papyrus off by smiling. You need to calm down.”

“But I am calm,” 88 said with a distinctly not calm smile. Error gave him a incredulous stare, which he only smiled wider at.

“I’ve ascended to a higher plain, Error. I’m so angry that I’ve breached the fourth dimension; I can smell the freaking rainbow right-“

-Error gets the privilege of seeing his friend reset to standing in front of the fridge-

“-now.”

Silence descended heavily on the two.

Somewhere in the house Papyrus froze, a feeling crawling up his spine that told him that maybe he should stall before heading downstairs. It had never steered him wrong before, so he listened.

Wise child.

“88, don’t do anything dr- shit.”

Error was quick to follow, shortcutting to the doors of the Ruins in a bid to beat the Sans to them first. He was lucky the Rules of Shortcutting only applied to a Sans in their home world.

It meant he got there in time to watch 88 march down the snow covered path with a bone attack in hand.

“That ain’t gonna work 88!”

88 sneered, “Well I’m going to make it work!”

Error sighed, a bit at a loss. 88 was usually so calm or happy all the time; he’s not really sure what to do here.

“Are you going to move, or am I going to have to hit you as well?!” 

Error scoffed.

“You think you can hit me?”

“Your not so powerful that I can’t!” 88 called back.

“Your not so stupid to try! You told me the other day that you couldn’t bring yourself to kill a bug!”

“The bug didn’t make me go to the store five times today!” 88 yelled, finally taking a single step forward-

-and ending up at the fridge again.

88 didn’t even have a second to shortcut back before Error showed up and grabbed him with a half a ton of neon blue strings.

88 flinched at the sight of them, but Error didn’t notice.

“Are you done yet?”

The Sans opened him mouth like he was going to reply but then he cut himself off and sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah...”

“Good.” And then the strings were gone.

88 leaned on the fridge and slid down to the floor, loosely curling into himself. Error joined him a few inches away sitting crisscross.

Few minutes later and 88 was back up looking at the fridge. He broke into helpless laughter.

“This kid is terrible!” He giggled, “What are they getting stuck on, the dummy?”

Error shrugged with a smirk, but never took his eyes off his friend.

“What were you even trying to get from the store all those times?” He asked.

“Pfft, believe it or not I don’t live off hot chocolate.” 88 let out the deepest sigh yet, “I just wanted to teach my bro how to make pancakes.”

They fell back into silence. 

Error stuck around until he felt a disturbance in the multiverse- some 6 more Reloads later. Apparently Ink was on a creation kick again if what Error felt was any indication.

He didn’t want to leave, not with the way 88 was starting to stare at the clock just before the kid Reloaded again, but it was his job. He couldn’t not do it.

It wasn’t until he was halfway into taking it out on a fresh AU that he wondered how 88 would even know about the dummy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this instead of homework. Judge me, I dare you.

“So, Error, when are you going to tell me about 88?

Error gave him a confused look, “Why would I tell you about you?”

“No you dingus, 88! Why do you call me 88?” 88 asked.

Error grimaced, crossed his arms, and looked away. He and 88 were sitting on a bench in front of Grillby’s watching Papyrus play with some of his classmates.

It was a rare day; the human was probably somewhere in Hotland doing puzzles.

88 laughed at Error’s antics and pulled his legs up under him, sitting crisscrossed on the bench so he could use his leg like an arm rest. He leaned closer to Error.

“Come on Error, you can tell me.” 88 assured, smiling widely.

His friend’s shoulders raised up around his head.

“Don’t want to,” Error pouted.

“Oh come ooooon,” 88 sang, “Tell me!” 

88 could see Error’s mouth twitching, so he kept pressing.

“Eeeerror~” More twitching.

“Eeeerroooor~” Ooh! a smile!

“I saw that!” He called out.

“No you didn’t!” Error denied, but it was pretty obvious he was. His shoulders started shaking with laughter and he steadfastly refused to look at 88.

88 got an idea.

“Error.”

Error fake glared into the distance.

“Psst, Error.” 

Nope, he wasn’t falling for it!

“Pssssssst!”

...

“Errorrrrr, I wanna show you something!”

...

“Okay, I’ll eat this whole chocolate bar on my own.” And then he heard a wrapper tear.

Error flung himself around and launched on top of 88, but 88 expected this and held the chocolate bar as high above his head as he could (even while his back hit the bench seat a bit harder than he’d like).

Curse 88’s long arms!

“Give it!” Error demanded.

88 grinned evilly, “Tell me what I want to know first.”

Error glared a squinty glare...but considered it. 88 decided to, heh, sweeten the deal.

“I’ve got moooore~”

“How much more?” Error interrogated.

“Hmm, I don’t know; That’s classified information.” 88 smirked, “But I can tell you it’s more than this.”

They stared each other down. They didn’t notice the people who’d walk by stopping to watch and giggle at them.

Error growled and huffed (but 88 could still totally see him smiling). He sat up and let his friend do the same, snatching the bar as soon as it came into range.

“Where’s the other one?”

“Nope! Info first.” 88 said.

Error groaned and took a chunk out of the chocolate, trying to bide his time. 88 waited, watching him finish it with an absent smile; Error felt himself shiver. 

Sometimes Error wondered how he, a literal god of destruction, became friends with some no name Sans who didn’t have a speck of LV on them; and then he’d see that smile and think, “Oh, it’s because he’s actually bat shit insane under all that good intent.” 

It’s was the only explanation that made sense.

“Okay, so you know how I’m not from here?” Error started.

“Yup.”

“What if I said that I’m from another universe?”

88 blinked, then shrugged. “Sounds crazy.”

Error stated for a second, waiting.

“What?”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah?” Error gave them a suspicious look, “What, do you want me to say something like ‘Pshaw! Error my friend, do you take me for some kind of fool?!’”

“Kinda.”

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad seeing as I believe you. Now continue!”

“Wait a sec-“

“C o n t i n u e.”

“Geez! Okay, okay!” Error cried, leaning away.

He took a deep breath-

“Oh by the way I know about the multiverse theory stuff so you can totally skip that.”

-and choked on air. Coughing, Error eyed his friend incredulously, to which 88s only response was a raised (non)brow and a vague hand motion to continue.

...Reluctantly, he did.

“O-okay, so there’s a bunch of Sans out there in a bunch of worlds; Some are like yours, and some are completely different. Following so far?” Error asked.

“Parallel universes versus Alternative ones, right?”

Error nods.

“There’s a sort of system. Alternative worlds aren’t as common as Parallel, so they get their own title. For example, your world is called ‘Undertale.’”

88 nodded, and Error got more confident.

“But there are worlds out there with huge differences to your own, like ‘SwapFell’; which is a world where your brother is the same age as (or older than) you and does everything you currently do, but edgier. Likewise you do everything a hyper papyrus would do if he were a bit older and had an emo/goth phase. Then add ‘murder is kinda legal’ and ‘Toriel is your queen’ and boom- alternate universe, or AU for sort.”

88 had a weird look on his face, like he wanted to laugh or throw up, Error paused to check on him, but he just waved him off. Error continue on.

“For every AU, there’s at least a dozen Parallel worlds for them. Personally I call them copies, but that’s not completely accurate. The Copies are more like ‘what if’ worlds; what if you stayed at home instead of going somewhere, or turned left instead of right? That kind of thing.”

Error waited for 88’s nod.

“So your category, you specifically, would be Undertale; but your subcategories would actually be numbers- unless you’re that rare copy that becomes an AU, but I’ll explain that later.”

88’s eye lights sparked with understanding. 

“Your saying that 88 is the number of my world.”

“Yes!” Error exclaimed, happy that his friend had picked it up so quickly.

88 smirked, “Dude, that’s almost as bad as ‘New Home.’”

Error huffed, “I wasn’t exactly planning on sticking around long enough to give you an actual nickname. I had destruction on the mind!”

His friends smirk dropped, “Wait, what-“

And then a screaming skeleton fell from the cave ceiling and belly flopped next to the bench.

“...what the-“

“ERROR!” The skeleton jumped onto their feet.

“Ink?!” Error cried nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Psst, there totally wasn’t more chocolate. Don’t tell-   
> Error: what  
> Me:  
> Error:  
> Me: *runs*  
> Error: GET BACK HERE


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Guys senpai noticed me!

Papyrus, despite what others seemed to think, was not just a loud kid; He was a cool kid too! He knew this for a fact because his brother always told him so, and his brother only ever lied to Jerry.

Nobody likes Jerry for some reason. Papyrus keeps asking why, but everyone he asks just starts acting weird and looking around like they expect him to pop up behind them any minute. 

Adults are weird.

But not his brother! Sans is the coolest big brother he could have ever wanted; he makes sure Papyrus isn’t lonely, or bored, or teased by the older kids (when he can)!

Papyrus was also a smart kid, so he knew Sans sometimes only did things because he was there, or somehow it benefits Papyrus in some way; like his job!

When he was little, Papyrus thought being a Sentry of the Royal Guard was the coolest thing ever! He asked Sans to tell him what awesome adventures he had every day, and Sans always did his best to tell of this daring rabbit trying to find his love or that curious bird that kept visiting him and telling stories about what she’d seen; and there was even one story about an annoying dog that stole his arm, but Sans managed to steal it back!

One day at school, an older kid pushed him onto the ground. It hurt and he cried, so Papyrus ran away from class to see Sans- his brother always knew what to do to make Papyrus feel better!

When he finally found Sans though, all he saw was his big brother sitting all alone in a little hut surrounded by snow; he’d looked so sad.

Papyrus actually didn’t know a whole lot about his brother. He didn’t know why Sans stared at the glowing rocks in Waterfall, or why his shirts always turned yellow, or even what he used to be/do before Papyrus. (That was a new concept for the little skeleton; realizing that there was a whole world and history before he was ever born.)

He actually made a list once, laying on the carpet in the living room while Mettaton’s show was on and his brother was busy making...well, something. Papyrus can’t actually remember what it was called, only that it looked like worms in red paint and his brother ate it all.

Papyrus named his list, “THANGS BROTHR LIKES 2 DOO” and thought really hard about what he knew.

Let’s be honest here; Papyrus is only six years old, and a six year old- no matter how smart- can’t stay focused on any one task for very long if it’s not very fun. Papyrus made a list, but he ended up just drawing it out on the paper instead.

Papyrus is not a very good artist at six. This will change later, as he gets constant encouragement from Sans to keep trying throughout his life, but for now the drawing is a prized fridge ornament.

When Papyrus first met Error, the bigger skeleton had just appeared from a hole in the middle of the dinning room. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he called (screamed) for his brother and ran up the stairs to Sans’ room.

Sans had almost kicked his own door down onto his little brother in his rush to (neutralize the threat) save him from whatever scared Papyrus so bad. 

Papyrus wasn’t fazed and hid behind his brother, watching the stranger from the safety of boney legs.

“Error??”

Papyrus had looked up at Sans’ face at that, just in time to see his brother’s face transform.

His brother, always so solemn and calm without Papyrus’ antics, grinned with interest. No, wait, that’s not it; It was warmer, kinder- like seeing a friend for the first time that day.

Oh, Papyrus thought, he’s excited.

“Come on bro, I want you to meet someone.” Sans said, shuffling around to stand behind and herd Papyrus back down the stairs.

Papyrus had hesitated, but the shear happiness radiating off his brother gave him the bravery to try.

“Error, meet my bro!” Sans announced, “Bro, my Error!”

“Your Error?” Sans’ friend asked, and did a weird twitch. His brother just grinned wider.

Papyrus stepped forward and hesitantly offered out a hand the way he’d seen other people do.

“I-it’s nice time meet you, sir!” He stuttered loudly.

Sans gave him a proud look and rubbed Papyrus’ skull with a hand. 

“Such a little gentleman!” He praised. Papyrus was so happy with the attention he didn’t even notice that Error hadn’t actually shaken his hand. Instead Error had kneeled in front of him while he was distracted.

“Hey, sorry about earlier Papyrus. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Papyrus shook his head.

“It’s okay!”

Sans shook him playfully.

“My little brother! Isn’t he the coolest?”

Papyrus doesn’t remember much after that. He thinks Error agreed and then the two shooed him away to finish his homework, but he’s not sure; all he knows is that when Error left, his brother didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

That’s why, when that mean skeleton started saying rude things about Error in front of everyone and trying to hit him with that giant brush thing, Papyrus wasn’t surprised that his brother took action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus: *to ink* My brother is going to fuck you up!  
> 88: gasp! Papyrus, Language!  
> Papyrus: English!  
> 88: *eyes watering* omg I taught him that  
> Error: *to ink* and that’s why we’re friends


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you've got one person who’s easily triggered and another who doesn’t think things through?

“ERROR!”

“Ink?!”

Ah, 88 thought, so that’s the Creator of Worlds. 

Error jumped off the bench and stood defensively in front of 88, who leaned over to keep staring at the new skeleton.

Has he always looked like a rainbow threw up on a potato sack? 88 wondered, and then realized the color was laying over the rough fabric instead of being its own. Oh no wait- that’s just paint he hasn’t washed off yet.

Ink took up his own stance, giant brush held close to his chest.

Those two had only just said each other’s name and they were already prepared to Fight.

“So this is where you went! Decided one AU wasn’t enough and came to kill another, huh? Well too bad, I won’t let you!”

“Wait- did you follow me here?!”

“Of course!”

“Dude, creepy.” 88 commented, but only Error heard him. He must have agreed with him if the thumbs up Error hid behind his back was any indication.

“So what do you plan on doing now?” Error asked.

Ink jumped back a few feet and raised his brush up like a batter ready to swing.

“I’m gonna stop you!”

Two Gods known for fighting giant battles against each other and destroying everything around them in the process, plus a tiny space surrounded by people who can’t escape- including Papyrus? That does not even begin to equal a safe and happy world.

That was when 88 tried to intervene.

“Hey,” he said, quickly placing himself beside Error, “How about you not?”

Error glanced over to him in alarm, whispering harshly, “What do you think you’re doing?!” But 88 ignored him, staring Ink dead in the sockets.

For a moment Ink’s eye lights stayed a weird triangle/square combo, but then he blinked and they were just little white dots in pitch darkness. It only lasted a second before becoming a hollow circle/question mark, but it did it’s job.

88 flinched.

Ink turned back to Error.

“Is that the Sans of this world?”

Error glared, “Why are you asking me when you already know the answer?”

Ink tilted his head to the side, “You’re letting him stand really close for someone you just met- oh! He’s also not covered in strings, so he’s not a hostage; so that must mean you two already knew each other!”

Ink grinned like he won a prize, and Error tensed up beside 88.

“Does he know who you are?” Ink called, “What you do to-“ 

He dodged to the side just in time to miss the dark bone that impaled the ground he was standing on.

Oh no, Battle Start.

“SHUT UP!” Error screamed, glitching horribly, “WHAT G-G-GIVES YOU THE R-IIIGHT TO JUST SHOW UP HERE AND RUIN THINGS?!”

Ink smirked, “Funnily enough, I ask myself that every time I find a destroyed AU!”

The Creator dodged more bones, these ones glowing like hot coals. 

In the back of his skull, 88 thought it strange that the second attack was so different from the first, but then realized the first attack must have just been a warning or done out of panic.

Either way, the fight had started and there was still too many people around for 88’s peace of mind.

“Everyone move!” He shouted, running towards the worried crowd, “Boss monster fight! I repeat, Boss monster fight!”

Once it clicked, people started panicking and running away; but some of the monsters in the crowd were current guardsmen or veterans (thank the stars) and were quick to act.

“Everyone! Please make way to a nearby shelter!” This world’s Doggo called. The other Dogsmen started herded the civilians into houses, “Please, this is an emergency! Take shelter now!”

There was a big BOOM followed by several rocky THUNKs behind 88, but he didn’t look back. Error could handle Ink; but his little brother still didn’t know how to dodge yet, let alone defend against shrapnel.

“Papyrus!” Sans shouted over the scrambling crowd, “PAPYRUS!”

“Over here!” 

Oh, thank the stars for Papyrus’ naturally loud voice! Sans thought as his head snapped to the side. 

“I can’t see you!” He called back.

“Here! I’m here!”

And there he was, standing over another child that was huddled into themselves. Sans didn’t waste any time and shortcutted over, quickly picking the two up and moving further away from the growing demolition behind him.

Sans looked around. The crowd was starting to run thin, but so were the open doors of the houses nearby. He felt himself starting to shake as fear set in (-or was that the two kids in his arms?)

Sans could take the two to his home, but was it a good idea to leave the two alone? What if the fight moved in that direction and nobody was there to watch out for them?

And then Error crash landed into the ground a few yards away.

Sans saw his opportunity.

“ERROR!” He screech, as loud as he could. When Error looked his way 88 drew in a huge breath.

“DON’T LET HIM LEAVE THIS SPOT!”

Error glanced down at the two in his arms and then looked back up with a nod- and then he was gone, the glitching screech of Ink’s name telling exactly where he went.

Feeling better about his choice, Sans shortcutted into the house.

“Sans?” His brother asked. He sat both shaking children onto the carpet.

“Stay. here. Don’t go upstairs and stay close to an exit in case the house gets attacked, got it?” 

The two stared at him. Outside a strange BWOOSH-BOOM rocked the ground. He really hoped that wasn’t what Sans thought it was.

“Got it?!” He said harshly. The two quickly nodded.

“Good.” And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get the beginnings of a real bad time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has occurred to me that I have no self control and I actually probably need my own Error to stop me from updating like I am.

It was a known fact that, as long as you locked your door, your house was theoretically safe. 

Now if one were to apply the concept of a lock into a magic form, there can be several different results. Magic works with intent, so a monster/mage could lock a door and think “I want you to open only for me,” and that door will indeed only open for you until told otherwise. 

Likewise should you close a door and think “I want nothing to enter this space that isn’t already here,” then it will indeed keep things out- but a simple door won’t stop someone from using a window or just bursting through a wall like the kool-aid man. A door is easy- less surface area to stretch magic on. The problem lies in Intent vs. Power Ability.

Most magic users can lock a door and keep it that way fairly easy; it’s almost a beginners trick at that point. But then add a window, maybe two; most monsters start to feel the strain at five separate locks.

If you were to take a single human (LV1) and a single monster (LV1) and compare Magic Levels, you’d have vastly different numbers. That’s because a human soul is full of magic that’s been packed down since the day they were born, something a monster can’t do as that very same magic is used every day to keep their form alive.

Now if you were to take those same two subjects and test their Power Ability, those numbers would still be vastly different but switched; the human having little to no ability to use magic and the monster using it like breathing. You can’t manipulate a rock but you can manipulate sand, if you pardon the metaphor.

Now if you take a normal monster and a mage and compare numbers, you’ll find the mage wins out. Mages, however, are rare because of human superstition; since mages are not not born but taught, and must learn at an early age before the magic in their soul becomes too tough to move.

However, if you take a mage apprentice and a Boss monster and compare their numbers, you’ll notice something odd. 

Boss monster Souls are the closest a monster can ever get to Determination, and can produce the trait under very extreme circumstances, but they always manage to stay just under the needed amount to get there; add in Power Ability and you’ve got a potential bomb on your hands.

A mage apprentice are those rates but flipped; lots of determination and only marginally able to access it; Like an underused muscle.

What does this mean? Well, it means that a Boss monster can comfortably lock a home from roof to foundation with little strain, but an apprentice will probably struggle with just a door- any more and they risk permanently damaging their Power Ability.

A mage, however, can extend that out and cover a good bit of ground outside of their lock should they so wish.

Now you might be starting to pick up on the fact that these locks sound pretty familiar in relation to the subject matter involved. That is because The Barrier is a prime example of powerful, well-trained mages coming together to make a lock.

But while this is all very fascinating, one must wonder what this has to do with the current events in dear 88’s story; and it’s quite simple.

The citizens took shelter instead of running to the next region over. They applied all their magic into making their own temporary barriers on the buildings they hid in.

Theoretically, they are safe. Even a Boss monster would have trouble going against a group of normal monster’s magic. So as long as no one more powerful than the caster(s) come along, they can hide for a good while.

Except the two fighting outside aren’t Boss monsters, they’re quite literally Gods. No barrier besides the great one will last past one hit from either skeleton.

Sans realized this the hard way when he took the shortcut back. That BWOOSH-BOOM had been the sound of a Gaster Blaster charging and hitting a house.

He knew there was a chance this would be the case. Error had said he’d keep Ink in that area, and that area happened to be surrounded by people who thought they were safe.

But standing there, looking at a chunk of missing roof and the terrified faces of people huddling together on the floor through a window-

It was too much.

Sans had learned early on that he could hardly use magic in a timely manner; the magic flowing like honey instead of water. Any bones he formed had to be preplanned and more often than not Sans was forced to dodge and strategize every move. (Thank the stars that shortcuts were not the same as regular old magic attacks or Sans would be in some trouble.)

He didn’t have to dodge and weave right now though, didn’t have to do any major strategizing either. All he had to do was build up magic an d w a i t.  
———

Error dodged another brush swipe and tried to immobilize Ink with his strings again, which failed. Again.

“Why won’t you just stay still?!” He cried in frustration. Ink laughed at him.

“What’s wrong? Just attack me like you usually do!” 

Error ground his teeth together knowing that however much he wanted to do just that, he couldn’t risk the monsters nearby again. 

Ink was good at making Error’s focus zero in on him, but Error never realized just how easily he fell into it until he was consciously fighting against it. That made it a problem, a weakness to be exploited- and one Ink didn’t hesitate to take advantage of.

Still, it wasn’t an excuse. 88 was probably going to kill him for that blunder later.

“I just don’t get it!” Ink taunted, jumping back from more bone attacks, “Everyone here is just a dirty glitch to you right? So then why are you trying to Spare them? Why aren’t you playing our game like usual?”

Error was taken aback. A game? Ink thought this was a game?

Unknowingly his thoughts echoed exactly what 88 was thinking as well, except with far more contempt.

Coincidentally, 88 saw the opening he needed and acted quickly.

It was like the mountain grew teeth and decided to eat one of them, Error marveled, but who has that kind of-

-He caught a flash of yellow in the corner of his eye. Spine tingling with dread, he reluctantly turned to see 88 staring between him and what he could correctly assume was Ink on the other side of the wall with murder in his eye sockets.

His very dark eye sockets.

“I believe you are done here.” 88 said.

For a second Error worried his friend meant him, but then he noticed 88’s head turned just slightly away from him and Error sighed with relief.

“Your interrupting our fight!” He heard Ink say.

“Your interrupting our day, but you don’t care about how we feel about it; so you can just fucking d e a l.”

Error winced.

“Now get out!”

“What?” Ink asked incredulously.

“You heard me! You came here, picked a fight, destroyed public and private property, and put my little brother in danger!” 88 yelled, “Your lucky that I consider this Neutral Ground, otherwise I’d be trying to do more than kick you out!”

“B-but Error was fighting too! Aren’t you going to kick him out as well?”

Error snapped his head around to the direction of the voice, “You little-!”

“Error is my guest and friend, thus he is my responsibility.” 88 eye sockets narrowed, “Now L E A V E!”

Error shortcutted behind his friend to back him up, and watched Ink portal out like a kicked puppy.

The mountain jaws retracted. The world was quiet.

Someone banged open a door and, like a signal no one told him about, people spilled out of buildings. There were cheers and happy tears and a great deal of celebration, but 88 and Error were left alone.

88 still didn’t have his lights on, and Error started worrying that something was wrong.

“88?”

Nothing.

“88?” He called more insistently.

His friend inhaled sharply and blinked, turning to look down at Error.

“Yeah, sorry, what?”

“Are...you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Just-“ 88 barked a laugh, “-I just can’t believe that worked!”

Error started to wonder if his friend had lost a marble or two between now and an hour ago.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that! I’m a little ol’ monster and you guys were fighting like- like- oh, I don’t know!” 88 threw up his hands in disbelief, “All that power and magic, and he actually listened to me! Ha!”

Error shrunk into himself.

“Sorry.” He offered, looking at the ground.

“What are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault.”

“But I started it. I put you and Papyrus at risk because I couldn’t stop myself from being baited.” He murmured shamefully.

“Actually, that reminds me- what was he going on about earlier?”

Crap, he was hoping 88 wouldn’t remember that.

“Any chance you’ll let that go?” He asked.

“Not on your life.”

“Fair enough. Promise not to freak out?” 

“I seriously doubt I’ll be doing that after the load of bull that we just dealt with, but sure. Promise.”

“Okay,” he took a deep breath, “My full title is Error: Destroyer of Worlds, and my job is to wipe out the code of Copies, Glitches, and Unstable worlds that could threaten the continued existence of the Original AUs.”

“...ah,” 88’s voice went high, “That’s uh, that’s...definitely! something!”

“You promised not to freak out!”

“I’m not freaking out!” 88 denied.

“Then what’s with the voice?!”

“What’s with your voice?!”

“This is what I always sound like!” Error defended.

“Well, you sound lovely!”

“No, you do!” Error blinked, “No, wait, what?”

88 grinned.

“You jerk! You tricked me!” Error yelled. He shoved his friends shoulder, and then his friend fell over like a free pane of glass.

Error freaked.

“W-what the hell? Hey, 88, are you okay?!”

He knelt down next to 88 and looked for injuries. 88 just gave him a thumbs up.

“Dude, I’m peachy.”

“Then why did you fall?!”

“You know I never realized how soft snow was. I think I’m gonna take a nap.”

“DON’T JUST FALL ASLEEP!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: one of the most powerful creatures in the universe, and I sent it to it’s room.  
> 88: ha!  
> 88:  
> 88: this is going to come back for me later, isn’t it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might be wondering what 88 does when he gets bored.
> 
> ...Heh.

Papyrus sat with the other child quietly next to the front door, flinching at every loud sound he heard.

Now that he had a moment, Papyrus realized that the kid beside him was a bunny monster from his class. Cool!

“W-what if he doesn’t come back?” The other asked.

The sudden question took Papyrus by surprise, as the bunny hadn’t hardly even acknowledged him when Papyrus tried to move them earlier; but as soon as he registered the question, he huffed and proudly puffed out his chest.

“What’s your name?”

“B-berry?”

“Have no fear, Berry! My brother will always come back!” He assured. The child tilted their head.

“How do you know?”

Papyrus grinned widely, “Because Sans promised!”  
——-

Sans sighed and looked around. All around him snow fell down thickly, covering every inch of ground it could reach and reducing visibility to almost nothing. It was cold, and when he exhaled he could see his breath. 

“Hello?” Sans called out, “Anyone here?”

The sound didn’t travel; the snow ate it before it could get farther than a couple of yards. It would have made Sans nervous had he not realized what was going on.

The skeleton decided to walk.

“Man, this is kind of gloomy. Wish I had some music or something.” He muttered to himself.

The snow wasn’t easy to walk through by half. Every step felt like he was sinking, and Sans could almost swear the frozen stuff was trying to hold his feet in place when he lifted a foot.

Sans huffed with frustration.

“Damn this sucks balls. JUST LET ME MOVE NORMALLY DAMN IT!” He shouted into the air.

The air laughed at him.

Well that’s not ominous at all, Sans thought.

A figure started to take shape in his peripheral vision, and he quickly stopped walking to look.

It started like a vague shadow, but soon Sans could pick out definition and edges; It almost reminded him of his own shadow.

Eventually he could pick up on the rhythmic sound of snow crunching, and for a second he wondered if he should start running.

Nah, Sans decided as the figure started becoming a person he recognized, no point running from a Nightmare.

“Good choice.” 

“Seeing as I didn’t say that out loud, I’m gonna take a guess and say your hearing my thoughts in some capacity.” Sans called out. 

The other grinned, “You’re certainly quick on the uptake.”

And your creeping around in my personal space like a stalker, Sans thought and smirked when his guest’s smile turned sour. 

“Right, so what brings you here random person of my dreams?” He asked.

“My name is Nightmare, and I just wanted a friendly chat.” Nightmare called.

“So you do have a name! I was being to wonder.” Sans turned serious, “So what do you want?”

Nightmare straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Confirmation; did you mean it when you said that your AU was Neutral Ground?”

“Why, you need something?” 

“Allies are always needed, and a safe place to rest between traveling AU’s would be greatly beneficial to me and mine.” Nightmare offered.

“You realize there is a very high chance that whoever you need rest from will also be showing up here from now on?” Sans asked, raising a nonexistent eyebrow.

“Yes, but you turned The Creator away and claimed Error as your ally- (“friend.”) -for all to hear. Any true light Sans will hesitate before entering your domain.”

Oh yeah, Sans thought, people don’t like Error; I’d actually almost forgotten. Wait, last I checked Error was a loose cannon rolling down hill on a one way ticket to running over Ink’s sweet potato sack ass and didn’t really have friends outside of me and- oh geez, what is he called here; started with a B-?

“Blueberry.” Nightmare offered.

“Oh yeah, thanks dude!” Sans responded, but then his eyes widened, “Hey, no, wait- I know we established you could hear me, but were you actually listening to my weird inner monologue?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So you heard what I said about Ink.”

“Very unfortunately.”

Sans sighed in embarrassment, “I just want to confirm that I wasn’t calling his butt sweet, I was calling it a sweet potato sack.”

“Whatever you say.” Was that disapproval on the others face?

“Moving on!” Sans declared, “How do you even know all this stuff when it literally just happened?”

“I have my ways,” Nightmare smirked.

(That’s probably code for, “I just so happen to stalk all my friends when they aren’t beside me.”)

“Huh,” Sans rubbed the back of his neck vertebrae thoughtfully, “Well, if you really want to do this then I don’t see why not.”

When he saw Nightmare’s grin turn positively evil, Sans quickly added onto that statement.

“I have conditions of course! Same thing I told Ink- no damage, no harm, and don’t put my brother in danger; but as long as you follow those rules then we won’t have any problems.”

“I assumed that was the case,” Nightmare nodded, “And you have my full agreement.”

“And your friends? Do I have their agreement?” Sans asked.

Nightmare grimaced. 

Yeah bro I’m onto you, Sans sassed. He snorted when Nightmare made a face of distaste, realizing the goopy skeleton had heard him.

“I can’t let them in unless they abide by my rules,” Sans stated, “But if the issue is that they aren’t here to agree for themselves then I am not against temporarily lifting the rules for them to come by and personally do so.”

Nightmare gave him a curious look, “You would do that?”

Sans shrugged, “You said it yourself a minute ago. People are going to start coming by whether I like it or not, and I can bet my left arm that only a third of them are going to ask for permission first. The way I see it, I’d rather let your friends come over and hear their agreement for myself than just take your word for it.”

“Aren’t you afraid we’ll just take over everything when we get there?” 

“Yup,” Sans popped the P, “But I want to believe that you’re better than some two-timing Karen who stabs people in the back.” 

Nightmare looked torn between amusement and offense.

“And what if we are those kinds of people?” He asked.

“Nah, this thing your doing now proves you at least have some kind of code. So-“ Sans gave Nightmare his best smile, “-do we have a deal?”  
——-

Error kicked in the front door with a glitched out war cry, scaring the ever loving heck out of two small children and sending one half of the door sailing into a wall where it became imbedded like a throwing knife in a target.

All three stared at it.

Error quickly turned to the two, “That never happened!”

“What happened?” Papyrus agreed, Berry nodding along.

The three nodded in solidarity, and Error charged over to the couch where he made sure nothing was in the way before promptly dropping his unconscious (“Napping my ass!”) friend onto it.

“Is my brother okay?” Papyrus asked, rushing over to stare down at Sans from the back of the couch; Berry joined him.

Error huffed, “Yeah, he just used too much magic in one go; Stupid idiot putting himself at risk-“

Papyrus was pretty sure that last half wasn’t for him to hear, but then he realized what his brother’s friend just said and snapped to attention.

“Brother used magic?!”

“Wha- yeah?” Error and Berry gave him weird looks, “Why are you so surprised? The guy is always using shortcuts.”

“‘Shortcuts aren’t the same as magic,’” Papyrus recited, “Sans says his magic is really hard to use, so he doesn’t do it unless he has too. So what did he do? Was it cool?!”

Error’s (non)brows furrowed, “Uh, yeah it was- (“I knew it!”) -hey can you go back to the bit about his magic for a second?”

Papyrus high-fived with his new friend before turning back to Error.

“What about it?”

“Why is it hard to use?” He asked. Papyrus shrugged.

“Sans just said it was too slow or something. That uh...” Papyrus squinted in thought, “Something about...food?”

Well that’s not helpful at all, Error sighed inwardly.

“So what did he do?” Papyrus quizzed excitedly, “Did he make someone blue? Did he get out the Gaster Blaster? Gasp! DID HE USE A SPECIAL BONE ATTACK THAT SAID ‘COOL DUDE’?!”

“...No? He just kinda-“ Error made a scissoring motion with his arms, “-made a giant wall that looked like teeth.”

Papyrus and Berry’s faces scrunched up.

“Ew...”

“Gross brother.” Papyrus scolded, looking down to the unconscious skeleton.

Error huffed, “It wasn’t actual teeth, it just looked like it from where I was standing.”

Papyrus looked at him with pity.

“He...hasn’t actually used teeth before, right?” Error wondered.

Papyrus grimaced and looked away.

“But why?!” He demanded incredulously.

“I better get Berry back home now.” The little skeleton declared, grabbing Berry’s paw and dragging them to what’s left of the front door.

“Wait, Papyrus! You can’t just tell me that and-“ and he’s gone.

Error turned his head slowly back to his prone friend.

“What kind of sick person summons teeth?” He asked himself.

88 smiled in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: *fumbling around and talking to themselves*  
> Nightmare: *from a distance* look at it; so strange and- weird!  
> 88: *trying to pull leg up over snow and falls on face*  
> Nightmare: why can’t I look away? Why is it so fascinating?  
> 88: YO, DUDE, I CAN HEAR YOU.   
> 88: AND ITS CALLED A TRAIN WRECK PLEB. GET ON MY LEVEL.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us all hold a moment of silence for the fallen door. It served 88 well in its time of existence.

“My door!” 88 whinnied, “My beautiful, beautiful door! What happened to you?!”

Error woke with a start from his spot at the foot of the couch. Confused, he glanced behind him, but the couch was empty of any kind of bones...unless there were some hiding in its cushions...

Something to investigate later, Error thought as he pushed himself onto his feet. He turned where he could hear a steady stream of dramatic wails and found 88 kneeling under the broken half of the front door still imbedded into the wall like a fancy lopsided table.

Error sighed, “88, it’s just a door.”

“But it was my door! I made it with my bare hands!”

Error paused in surprise, “Wait, really?”

“Yes!!”

Error grimaced, suddenly feeling just a bit guilty.

88 looked back at Error, about to go into further dramatics about the creation of the worlds best loved front door, but then he actually looked at his glitchy friend. 

88 switched gears, “it’s okay Error, I can fix it. It’s not that big a deal.”

Error, as per norm around his yellow friend, became confused, “But you were just saying-“

“Just because it’s broken, doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed. It’ll just take more time...and some very strong glue.”

That hit Error right in the soul. He felt like he should say thank you or something equally significant, but then 88 made a sheepish face and scratched the side of his skull.

Oh great, that’s classic signs of a Sans with bad news. (One could say it’s a Classic Sans move. Get it? No? Okay moving on.)

“What did you do.” Error sighed.

“What makes you think I did anything?” 88 asked innocently.

“Well for one, your not looking at me-“ and Error quickly made his way over, smacking 88’s hand away, “-and two, stop that! You’ll leave scratches on your skull!”

His friend pouted and cradled their hand, “What are you, my mom?”

“Yes. Welcome home my child,” Error deadpanned. 88 gave him a horrified look.

“Please, for the sake of every star of the sky I have never actually seen, don’t do that again.”

“Tell what you did and maybe I’ll consider it.” He replied, crossing his arms.

His friend stared at him suspiciously for a moment, but then he sighed to himself and stood up.

“Right, so I just want to say that I had no idea this was going to happen and that if you get angry at me I will probably cry big fat tears of emotions I’m not equipped to handle on my own.”

“Right, ‘cuz that’s not ominous or anything.” Error grouched.

88 gave a sheepish smile and opened their mouth.

Nothing came out. Error raised an eyebrow.

“Well?” He asked, growing impatient with the stalling. 88 closed his mouth with a click and grimaced in frustration.

“S-sorry, just give me a second. This happens sometimes.”

Error watched with a raised (non)brow as his friends face contorted with a whole series of emotions while his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

“If your trying to stall, it’s just going to make it worse when someone tells me before you.” He nudged none to gently. 

88 grimaced harder, “I-I’m trying, I just can’t-“

He flushed yellow in shame and started fidgeting with the seem of his sweater. 

“I-I uh, m-m-may-“ Come on, your almost there! He frustratedly hissed to himself, “-J-just give me a m-moment please.”

Error uncrossed his arms, and 88 really hated that concerned look on his face; like something was wrong, like something was wrong with him.

88 hadn’t realized he still had this problem; he thought it disappeared like the rest of his previous life. This was not a pleasant surprise.

Well, old problems means old solutions. Time to chop it out.

“I may have, just met, the leader of the dark sans?” He quickly rushed when Error looked like he was about to talk, “AndnowtheyrecomingheretopersonallyagreetosomerulesIset.”

They stared at each other for a moment as Error tried to understand that load of gibberish his friend just dumped on him.

“...WHAT?!”  
——-

Somewhere in the universe, in a bright gold endless space where papers hung from delicate stings, was a pouting Creator of Worlds.

In actuality his title was kind of misleading. Sure he created almost every AU in the multiverse, but a lot of them were more like commissions given to him by the voices than actual things he came up with himself.

He actually had some issues with that, but he didn’t dare try and argue against The Creators again. Some of them could be...cruel.

Wait, what was he just thinking? Oh yeah! The most recent fight with Error!

His arch nemesis, his one true rival, his...brother? Well, Error wouldn’t think so but Ink always looks forward to their next spar, just because he gets to see him again! 

Ink didn’t like thinking about it, but Error was probably the only person who understood what it was like to be of the multiverse. No real home, friends who can’t understand you, and that crushing need to appease the voices.

Today though, his bonding time with Error was interrupted. That’s happened a couple of times, so Ink wasn’t bothered right away; he just had to convince the interrupter that it was too dangerous to play with them and they usually backed off.

That wasn’t the case here. This Sans didn’t want to fight Error, didn’t even want to fight Ink either; he actually wanted them to stop.

Can you believe that? How rude can somebody get?!

What’s pretty weird though is that Ink could almost swear that, that Sans saw under the Colors. He’d looked so spooked when they’d locked eye lights, that it had almost made Ink want to know his nickname.

Error was the only one who’d ever been able to see under it before.

Gasp! What if this was a new brother?! Sure the Sans had his own AU, but Ink had felt the instability the minute he jumped into the world, so it was only a matter of time before it collapsed in on itself. Plus, He didn’t make it, it just popped up all on its own!

It totally made sense! Ink’s own AU had never been completed either and just look at him! 

(He was only mildly sure that Error was the same way though.)

“I’ve got to go back!” Ink decided. 

With that, he opened his inky version of a portal and dived in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: I made some friends mom!  
> Error: oh no  
> ——  
> Ink: oh my stars! I met someone who wasn’t fooled! This can only mean one thing!  
> Ink: new brother!  
> *somewhere in the multiverse, Error feels the need to hide 88*


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma give y’all a glimpse of the very near future.
> 
> Nightmare & co: *screaming*  
> Error & 88: *screaming*  
> Ink: *maniacal laughter*  
> The town: *on fire*

So now Error was mad at him and very much not speaking to 88 at the moment, in fact he’d left the house shortly after shouting, “I’M LEAVING. I’LL BE BACK WHEN I’M NOT ANGRY ANYMORE.” 

Good news, he was still in 88’s AU; Bad news, he was wandering out there doing stars knew what without supervision. 

This was mildly alarming, but the Sans had faith that his friend would leave everyone in one piece. Plus, this was probably for the best- but 88 wasn’t lying when he said he would cry, and even though he called it, 88 didn’t really get WHY Error was upset; so now he just sort of feels abandoned and stuck with feelings a Sans rarely handled well.

“Sans!”

Sans blinked in surprise and rubbed his sockets furiously, trying to hide the evidence of his crying before he turned; He knew that voice anywhere.

“Paps! Bro! There you are!” He cried with delight, walking over to his brother’s excited form and picking him up into a hug with a twirl.

“Brother, your awake! This is wonderful!” Papyrus squealed, giving him a suffocating hug around the neck.

Sans pretended to choke.

“Nu! Bro! Your hugs-“ he patted Papyrus’s back and feigned falling back, “-too strong!”

His little brother just giggled and hugged tighter, burring his little skull between his arm and Sans’ neck. 

Sans smiled and sniffed, this was exactly what he needed.

“Papyrus, why are you so cool?” He wondered. His brother giggled little “nyeh heh hehs” and Sans fake gasped.

“What am I doing!” He exclaimed pushing Papyrus into the air by his armpits, “Questioning greatness! I think I’m finally starting to loose my marbles!”

Papyrus giggled harder and Sans could almost feel himself melt when the little skeleton patted his arm.

“That’s okay Sans, I love you anyway!”

Sans tried really hard not to cry again.

“How about you and me make dinner, and then we’ll play a game of cards?”

Papyrus gasped, “Skip-bo?!”

“Only if you’re prepared to loose!”

“Nyeh! The Great Papyrus never looses, I’m just waiting for the right moment to win!”

“Whatever you say Pap~”

“Oh! Oh! Remember the other kid from this morning?”

“The bunny kid?”

“Yeah! Turns out their name is Berry and......”  
——-—

Error came back early the next morning to find that the front door had been fixed, sort of.

The entire door had a giant cross made of several layers of duck tape around it, and Error could only assume 88 knew a lot more about hardware than he did based on one of the hinges being almost entire made of...more duck tape?? And a bone.

At least it’s not teeth. 

He opened the door as carefully as possible, worried that the slightest strain would ruin his friend’s hard work. Luckily that didn’t happen and he was able to shut it carefully behind him.

When he turned to the living room Error found that the couch had become the newly designated bone pile. The little Papyrus curled loosely into his brother’s chest with 88’s arm limply holding him securely in place.

Around the two, looking like someone had tossed them into the air half hazardly with no real care, were tons of worn out colorfully numbered cards. 

Error picked one up with a string and examined it briefly before shrugging and gathering the rest up the same way, carefully placing them neatly on the coffee table.

If anyone asked, it was repayment for the door.

(Somewhere in the multiverse, running around Snowdin, Blue felt a sudden need to praise Error. How strange...)

He shortcutted up the stairs and opened the first door he came across, which happened to be Papyrus’ room. 

Good enough, Error thought before stealing the top cover off the bed and shortcutting back down behind the couch.

Call him paranoid, but Error used his strings to lower the blanket onto the two so he wouldn’t risk waking them up by dragging it over them.

Logically he knew this wasn’t needed- skeletons didn’t feel the cold the same way everyone else did, so this was just extra- but the way the furrow on 88’s forehead loosened up right after made Error feel better.

Carefully, he sat at the foot of the couch again.

Somewhere in his walk around his friend’s limited world, he concluded that 88 really had no idea who he’d made a deal with and this was probably his fault for not bringing it up when he started coming here more frequently; thusly Error decided it was his responsibility to be there when Nightmare and 88 met up.

He’d prevent any...untoward behavior.

Error had just started to settle into his vigil when he felt a familiar wave of negativity pass through the town. Damn, and he’d just sat down too.

Groaning, he lifted himself to his feet. 

“Hey, 8-“ Error cut himself off, an idea forming in his mind. 

Grinning with delight, Error shortcutted outside and started walking in the direction of the negativity.

No one said 88 had to greet them first.  
———-

Ink took a good look around.

Peaceful town, sixth sense screaming about instability, and....yup! Damaged house roof courtesy of Error.

“Haha!” Ink cheered, “Yes! I did it!”

Turns out twentieth times was the charm, and all it took was several hours worth of wandering, forgetting what he was doing, and getting lost to get here!

He was going to have to more thoroughly label the Copy AUs from now on.

...

Why was he here again?

...

...

Oh yeah! He was going to find his new brother and learn his (nick)name! 

Ink nodded to himself, imagining all the fun things they could do together once he found him and explained himself (completely forgetting that his “brother” had told him to leave and was probably not going to be happy to see him, like, at all).

This was going to be so much fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Error: see this person? *holds up 88* this is my person  
> Error: all who touch my person shall die  
> Ink: *tries to poke*  
> Error: HISSSSS


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, 13 is an unlucky number; turns out it’s also Nightmare’s unlucky chapter.

Error found Nightmare and his group at the edge of Snowdin, just in sight of 88’s post by the Ruin doors.

Them even being that close made every red flag he had fly high (what if 88 had been working today?), so Error didn’t hesitate to cut them off where they stood. They may be his friends, but Error only trusted them so much when it came to live people.

“Well l-l-look what the cat dragged in!” He called, “A little far from home, aren’t you?”

Surprised, the gang jumped into a defensive position- bones, blades, and goopy tentacles at the ready- but when they got a good look at the newcomer all but Nightmare immediately dropped them.

Cross (bless his poor little soul) took off with a delighted shout of Error’s name and quickly covered snowy ground to stand next to the glitchy skeleton, never noticing his leader swipe out a tentacle meant to pull him back. 

Killer, who was just about to take off as well, did notice and stopped dead. Following Nightmare’s stare, Killer found it lead right to the Destroyer who was watching them with a dangerous look in his eye sockets.

Oh shit! He thought with alarm.

Killer quickly moved to stand behind Nightmare, dragging a confused Horror (“whaaaat are you doing?”) and protesting Dust (“dude, what the hell?!”) back with him. He wanted to get their wayward teammate back too, but there really was no way to do it safely; he just had to hope Cross’s luck was better than his instincts.

“Error!” Cross greeted, “What are you doing here? Last we heard, you were going back to the anti-void for a while! Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Error wondered how this boy had managed to live this long without being able to tell when someone was in a, heh, killer of a mood. 

A glance over to the boys showed them all watching on, freshly informed of the current atmosphere and slowly working themselves up over their friend’s current level of safety, especially Dust who looked about ready to come over and steal Cross back to safety.

Dust was such a mom, Error could almost hear 88 saying. His friend would probably actually like this group, despite the glaringly obvious issues they come with; it was just too bad that Nightmare was known for being worse than a lawyer when it comes to deals and an even worse maker of friends.

It was also a good thing Error liked Nightmare’s group or Cross would have been yeeted into the Barrier before he got within three feet of the God.

As it was, he couldn’t really bring himself to do anything to Cross. It wasn’t him Error had a problem with at the moment and of all the dark Sans in Nightmare’s group, it was younger skeleton Error felt the most empathy toward. 

To be fair, all of Nightmare’s group struck a special cord in his soul, but Error knew how it was for the Xtale monster; Error himself still felt that same kind of lose just as keenly as when it first happened.

So all he ended up doing was patting Cross on the skull and letting the younger one ask his questions, much to the relief of the skeleton’s mom friends.

“Yeah, but it seems Fate doesn’t like me taking more than a minute to rest these days.” Error shrugged, “Ink made some new AU’s, we got into a fight, the usual; and then, believe it or not, I stumbled into this place.”

He could see the others farther away slowly starting to relax the longer he kept from making any hostile moves, and Error smirked to himself. Now he got why 88 liked to mess with people so much, especially when they had no idea what was coming; even if Nightmare wasn’t falling for it.

“So what are you guys doing here? Planning on raiding this place?”

Error saw Nightmare try to hide a grimace. 

Cross shook his head no, “Nightmare said something about a new ally he wanted to try and recruit.”

So kidnapping, Error translated while mentally gritting his teeth.

“Right, well it’s a good thing I’m here.” Error said, and the three skeletons further away finally settled, “We can make this real quick.”

The group misunderstood, but Nightmare’s eye sockets widened. Error smirked and mentally counted to three.

One...

“Cross, get over here!”

Two...

Cross frowned in confusion but took a shortcut over.

Three.

Nightmare grabbed his gang and shortcutted to the side, dodging the broadly grasping strings that would have grabbed them seconds before.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Killer exclaimed as Nightmare quickly let them go.

“Defending what’s-s-s mine!” Error declared, sending more strings after them and watching them scatter.

He wasn’t going to hurt them, but they didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Hey, can’t we talk about this?” Horror asked, Cross frantically nodding beside him. They dodged in opposition directions when a wave of dark bones made a beeline for them. Error’s only response to the question was a dark sounding laugh.

Killer shortcutted directly in front of Error and took a swipe at him, but Error just grabbed his arm and threw Killer over his head. Nightmare jumped in close and tried to take a stab at Error from the back while the skeleton was distracted with Dust’s barrage of sharpened bones, but then the goopy tendril retracted back into his body violently and Killer landed on him none too gently.

The goopy skeleton fell over in shock and Error, noticing the two presences unmoving behind him, took that moment to snap his magic tight around both his friends and threw them next to the little hut.

“NIGHTMARE/KILLER!” The others cried out in shock. Error huffed disapprovingly at their lack of attention to an attacker and was quick to grab them as well.

Error threw them over to the hut too, just for the hell of it. If they groaned and protested at the treatment, well, Error was definitely not just laughing in his head.

“You guys need more practice!” He taunted. Quite a few birds were throw in his direction in response.

He walked leisurely over to his captives, letting the feeling of suspense build in the air.

This was a lot easier than he’d thought it would be, and now he wondered what to do with them now that Error had caught ‘em. 

It would probably be better to just bring them back to 88’s home, Error thought staring down at the bodies at his feet, that way he could show off his pest catching skills and 88’ll make him a nice, warm mug of hot chocolate as thanks; especially when he reveals Nightmare’s actual plan.

Mmm, hot chocolate...

“So what now?” Dust asked. It was probably to Nightmare, but Error decided to reply for him.

“Now you all get to meet your new “ally” and 88 gets to choose what to do with you.” 

“Wait, what?” Horror replied, and then Error started dragging them through the snow.

“Hey, hey! Can’t we at least walk?!” Horror whined, trying to keep his cracked skull from picking up snow.

“Nope. Nightmare went back on a deal,” Error flashed an evil smirk at them over his shoulder, “So this is your drag of shame. ‘Deal breaker’s are ditch makers’, or whatever 88 usually says.”

“Okay, but who’s 88?” Cross asked, resigned to his Error given fate.  
——

“Sans! Error’s back!” Papyrus shouted from the window.

“Cool beans bro, why don’t you get the door for him?” 

Papyrus frowned and tilted his head, “I think he might need help getting in!”

Sans poked his head out of the kitchen, confused.

“Why, did he bring a whole bunch of chocolates again?”

“Nooo? I think it’s people.” He said, pointing at his brother’s friend through the glass.

Sans grimaced, even more confused. 

Papyrus watched his brother go back in the kitchen and heard a click-shhh, and then his brother came back out, still wearing the apron Papyrus made for him one birthday.

Papyrus felt a flash of pride that his brother liked it enough to wear it even out of the kitchen.

Sans glanced out the window, and made a face. Just what the hell had his friend been up to while he was gone?

He went to the front door and opened it wide, leaning out to get a better look.

“YO! ERROR! YOUR LATE FOR BRUNCH!”

“WHAT DID YOU M-M-MAKE?” 

“....I THINK ITS A CASSEROLE!”

“You think?!” Error asked, finally close enough to stop screaming but too incredulous to go lower in tone.

“I don’t know dude! I just sorta picked stuff and said, ‘Hey, that might be good together!’”

“But why?!” 

“Well, turns out I need to start making a list before I got to the store; and after the last trip I really wasn’t feeling it.” 88 shrugged. Error ah’ed in understanding. 

“So what’s with the baggage?” 88 asked, pointing at the resigned/wiggling things behind his friend.

Error glanced behind himself wondering at the lack of reaction, before realizing his friends were buried under a thick layer of snow he’d dragged them through.

“Pffft- H-Hahaha-aha!” Error laughed, and laughed even harder when a confused 88 walked out and nudged one of the skeletons with a foot, only for -Dust’s?- legs to kick out in the air and scare the ever loving heck out of 88.

“Error, what the hell did you do?!” 88 asked, eye lights shrunken into pinpricks and staring at the pair of legs like a particularly creepy bug that just tried to touch him.

Error just laughed, and Papyrus decided he wanted in on this too.

88’s little brother found another pile (this one less wiggly) and started excavating. 

“Be careful bro, their legs can move.” 88 warned, to which Error’s laughter was renewed. The way he was laughing was starting to make 88 wonder if there was a joke he’d missed.

Papyrus dug with a look of ultimate focus and, little by little, a skeleton was revealed. Two of them, actually.

“Sans, Look!” He called, running back up to his brother to drag him over to Papyrus’ discovery. 

88 got one good look at the pair before his eye lights actually went out. His friend noticed his reaction and forced himself to settled into giggles; He didn’t want to miss any of this.

“Error?” 88 called.

“Yes?” Error smirked.

“Is that Nightmare?”

“Yup.”

“And is that his crew?”

“Yeeup.” He dragged out.

“You tied them up and dragged them through the entire town, didn’t you.”

“You bet’cha.”

“What did they do?”

“Went back on your deal.” Wait for it...

“...pfft.” 

Error grinned with pride. Yes! 88’s one true weakness; karma!

“Come on, bring them in. I think I’ve got a box of hot chocolate I’m not afraid to part with.” 88 ordered with a wave of a hand, Papyrus following closely behind.

An entire box?! Hell yeah! Error cheered.

No one noticed the curious Creator watching from the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: *secretly has a sadistic sense of humor, but is ashamed of it*  
> Error: *just wants 88 to be comfortable with himself*  
> Error: *and chocolate. Lots of chocolate*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, it’s hard to write multiple people at the same time.

Horror has been through a lot in his life. He’s lived through good times (though he can’t remember those very well), bad times, And even impossible odds. 

(The crack in his skull being a huge reminder of just how impossibly he survived justtolivethroughafamineand-)

Horror can honestly say one of the best times, though he hadn’t known it yet, was joining Nightmare’s little crew of misfits in his mission to terrorize the multiverse. It helped that Nightmare kept his Papyrus fed back home, but sometimes Horror wondered if that would have really changed much had it still been up to him to feed his brother.

The others were a kind of curiosity to him; whole worlds where he murdered everyone in the underground just to win? Another where he decided for some reason to cut everyone up for the hell of it? And then Cross with his entire world having fallen apart and Nightmare- well, actually, Nightmare was the most tight lipped of all of them; but Horror got the feeling that whatever happened to him was BAD.

It really made him wonder what kind of person he himself had been before this damnedcrackinhisskull-!

Horror had to say that, of all the things he’d seen, Error was one of the greatest mysteries. No one knew where he came from, no one knew who he’d been, and he destroyed things because voices told him to. On paper he was a classic case of a Sans that snapped, if it weren’t for the extra bits.

The portals, the inverted colors, the glitching, his aversion to touch, those strings which he uses almost constantly and with complete ease (as if magic was an infinite source!), and those battles with Ink. Horror had seen a few, and damn were those waaaay beyond his level.

This all meant that when Error told them something, no matter how strange or impossible or just plain stupid, Horror listened. Horror did his best to suspend his disbelief and, though Error and he hardly ever talked, his friend seemed to appreciate the effort nonetheless.

(All those chocolate gifts...)

So Horror listened to Error when he bantered with the new Sans, listened when he dragged them all into a living room that only somewhat resembled his own once upon a time and started telling them off, and listened maybe just a bit too hard when the new Sans called from the kitchen about giving them food too and Error just sighed in response.

Nightmare grumbled from his place on the floor by the couch, leaning as far away from Killer as he could. Nightmare was fond of all his subordinates, Horror knew, and Killer was no exception to that; but that didn’t mean the goopy skeleton was comfortable having the skeleton practically in his lap WHILE facing him.

Horror thought it was funny, but he didn’t dare laugh out loud.

Killer looked like he was trying his hardest to become a statue, Dust was laying over the entire couch staring blankly at the ceiling, and Cross was the poor sap sitting normally (sweating nervously) with Dust’s head in his lap. Horror got lucky enough to have his own seat at the recliner in the corner.

Meanwhile the small copy of his brother leaned against the back of the couch (opposite of Cross) with his arms crossed across the top, watching them. 

The Papyrus of this world was actually a bit scary. He’d only been standing there a few minutes, having enough of the squabbling from the kitchen, but the only thing he’d done was stare with this blank look in his sockets.

If Horror hadn’t seen the other Sans with his own eye light, he’d swear this was a younger Swap Papyrus already using his special ability to judge people’s souls.

Horror tried not to shiver as the kid’s gaze lingered over him, briefly wondering if this Papyrus had been taught that stare by his Sans. Most Sans wouldn’t, but this Sans was friends with the Destroyer of Worlds and had willingly invited a bunch of outsiders into his home; Horror wasn’t sure the skeleton was working with a full deck.

“Papyrus?” Speaking of, “Can you help me set the table? Error’s too busy trying to find out if he can drink an entire box of hot chocolate out of a pot!”

Wait, what? Horror and Killer shot dubious stares at the kitchen archway. The others would have too, had they been either able to sit up or turn, but they made due by staring into space with baffled stares.

Horror knew Error loved his chocolate, but that was just ridiculous!

“Coming!” The little Papyrus called with a bright smile, running to the kitchen with a cheer.

Horror is beginning to wonder if that Papyrus is the one they should recruit.  
——-

Nightmare was going to give everyone in this room nightmares for a month if Error didn’t release him in the next ten minutes.

This isn’t a joke, he’ll do it; and when they came crying to him to nock it off, he’ll just-

Oh. He’s free.

Nightmare pushed Killer off him and jumped up, the others (minus Horror) following suit.

“Sans says foods ready,” the little Papyrus called from the dining area, watching them.

“Well you can tell ‘Sans’ to take his food and-“ Horror tackled Dust before he could finish speaking. The two started rolling around on the floor, spitting curses at each other while trying to pin the other down.

Nightmare sighed and the little host just blinked before turning to the kitchen archway.

“Sans! I don’t think they want any food!” He called, “Does that mean I can have theirs?”

The two on the floor froze and the three “civilized” skeletons stared at Papyrus confused.

They hadn’t said they didn’t want any, Nightmare thought, tilting his head to the side, so what is the little one up to?

The little skeleton glanced at all of them, meeting each and every eye light, and smiles.

What-?

“Well, that’s too bad,” Nightmare heard 88 reply, genuinely disappointed, “I actually put some water sausages in it too.”

Nightmare saw Horror jump up and run to the kitchen, crashing into the archway frame in his haste.

“W-wait!” He cried, “I do want some!”

“Oh!” He heard 88 reply, “Papyrus are you sure you asked everyone?”

Papyrus huffed, and Nightmare felt the disappointment rolling off him, “Sorry, I guess I missed one!”

Had Horror ever moved that fast? Nightmare wondered, watching his friend huff from the sudden exertion before looking back at the child.

The other three (Dust having gotten up) were also looking at Papyrus, eye sockets narrowed and mumbling to each other with barely concealed nervousness. It would have been pathetic if Nightmare wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

Why did Papyrus do that? What did he gain from lying to his brother about them? Did he just want more for himself like he implied or-?

Papyrus caught his stare, looked him dead in the sockets, and pulled an eye socket down with a finger, sticking his tongue out.

That insolent little-!

Error walked out of the kitchen carrying a giant pot between his hands. 

“Move,” He ordered, nudging Horror out of the way and standing carefully between him and 88, who was making his way carefully to the dining table with a glass pan full of something cheesy.

Horror started drooling.

“Welp, I hope this is better than my last experiment.” 88 said, sitting the pan down on an oven mitt.

“I liked that one though!” Papyrus claimed, smiling innocently and taking a seat like he hadn’t just disturbed a bunch of homicidal skeletons with his two-faced act.

So innocent looking, so diabolical...

Error scoffed, also sitting, “You choked on the first bite.”

Papyrus shot him a glare and tried to reassure the suddenly unsure looking Sans, “It’s an acqu- acqui-“

“Acquired taste...?” 88 filled in.

“Yeah! That! I just hadn’t had any before and it was different from the normal stuff!” Papyrus confirmed, nodding to himself.

Error’s (non)brows raised and he chugged a bit of his...drink. Nightmare was almost impressed with the skillful lie, but now he had to wonder, was this Sans actually a sort of warped version of a Swap Sans?

It would explain Error’s behavior; he was fond of Swap Sans, wasn’t he?

Eventually, with much squawking over seats, they all found a place at the table and a free plate.

88 looked around at everyone and smiled, “You know, this is the fullest I’ve ever seen a table!”

“I hate it.” Error stated, shoveling a bit of food onto his plate; everyone but Papyrus and Horror watched on as he took a bite. 

Papyrus and Horror were too busy getting their own plates filled with as much they could reasonably get away with.

88 huffed with amusement, “You would mister ‘I don’t need anyone.’”

“I don’t.” Error said with his mouth full. 88 grimaced but ignored it; at least he didn’t eat the fork this time.

“You sure about that?”

Error nodded, taking another bite. Everyone took that as a signal that the food was good and filled their own plates quickly.

88, seeing everyone digging in, finally grabbed his own portion.

“So you don’t need me then?” 88 smirked, flicking a stubborn bit of food off the serving spoon with a plop.

Error shot him a suspicious look, and everyone watched on with curiosity.

“...no, I don’t.” Error finally said, taking a huge gulp out of his pot.

88 hummed, “Then I guess you’ll have a great time finding the chocolate stash I hid without me.”

Snickers and giggles broke out at the table when Error almost dropped his pot in shock.

Giggles stopped dead when they heard an extra laugh come from up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone: *laughing*  
> Mysterious voice: *also laughing*  
> Everyone: *stops laughing*  
> 88: oh shit, napstablook?


	15. Announcement

Hey, this isn’t a chapter. 

My mother had a medical emergency today, like, an hour ago. Because of the Corona Virus the hospital won’t allow visitors, so I’ve been sitting in the metaphorical dark waiting for someone to tell me if she’s going to be okay.

I might put up a chapter later if everything turns out alright, or I might not. We will just have to see which way the wind blows today.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring news! My mother is okay and back at home. The doctors said it was a mini stroke, but nothing was damaged and she’ll be fine- she just has to take a bit of medication from now on.

Ink had a funny ability; if he stopped drinking the Colors and let his body work those emotions out of his system (which he had some control over), he essentially became a blank canvas. 

No emotions meant neither Dream or Nightmare could feel him unless they were actually looking, and without the fluctuation patterns his magic would normally take on (an unconscious imitation of a soul beat he didn’t have) most people who knew him would have a hard time feeling for him in a crowd.

Or right next to them, as it were.

This meant that, with all the talking going on down stairs, it was pretty easy to manually unlock a window and enter the residence with little detection. 

Maybe he should be renamed Sneak or something...nah! Although now he has a new pun in mind. Maybe he can stage things just enough to say it?

A quick glance around showed a pretty standard looking Sans room; messy, clothes on the floor, and a floor lamp sitting on a box. Although on closer inspection, it was a lot more organized- if not a bit dusty from lack of spring cleaning. The clothes were piled together on the floor, the bed was made (if only just), and there wasn’t any trash tornado; no trash at all really.

Interesting. Welp, time to make his grand entrance. Ink grabbed a mix of lighter colored vials from his holster and downed them quick as possible.

“Then I guess you’ll have a great time finding the chocolate stash I hid without me.” He heard a vaguely familiar voice say, followed by the sound of giggling and dead silence from Error. Ink giggled too, knowing Error well enough to imagine his expression in the face of such utter betrayal.

Apparently he was too loud, and the people on the other floor stopped laughing immediately.

He heard chairs scraping against tile and furious muttering.

“Yo, creepy disembodied voice, do you mind?” That same vaguely familiar voice called out, and more hushed mutters broke out. Ink deduced that it was his newest brother and perked up. 

“If I’m disembodied, doesn’t that imply I don’t have a mind?” Ink called back, edging towards the bedroom door.

“True, true. So, how’d you get in my house?”

“Through the window.” He put his hand on the knob, but waited. Almost there...

“Huh.” A pause from downstairs and then behind him, “I guess that makes you some sort of Ninja if an entire house full of homicidal skeletons didn’t hear anything.”

Yes! There’s his chance! Ink twirled around to face the yellow shirted skeleton.

“What can I say? I’m real sninky.”

He watched the other’s face swing through a series of emotions. Confusion, recognition, realization, and-!

“Did you just-“

“Yup!” 

-horrified amusement. That is not the reaction Ink expected.

The yellow skeleton just stared into space, right eye socket twitching slightly.

“You were suppose to laugh.” He nudged.

“So this is what my mother felt...” he heard the other mutter. 

“You had a mother?” Ink asked. This one really was full of mysteries!

Error busted the door down with a foot, catching Ink in the back and making him fall to the floor with an “oomf!” Error quickly bound him to the downed wood and sat on it.

“My door! Not again!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you for your kind words and consideration. I wasn’t actually going to put anything up, but between the relief and your support I felt I could put up a small chapter before collapsing into my bed. This one was somewhat inspired by my own mother as she is sort of a Papyrus herself when it comes to puns. 
> 
> You can imagine her face when I got her a get well card that was mostly pun; Her face screamed “Haven’t I suffered enough today?”
> 
> So thanks a lot you guys. I really appreciate it.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all’s door puns are great, I got a real kick out of them.
> 
> Really cracked me up.
> 
> One could say I laughed so hard I looked unhinged.
> 
> (Shameless reuse of puns)

Sans, as a rule, did his best to be fair and neutral in all things. To be logical, impartial, and distant, even to the point of dissociation with the people around him.

For years this left him with very little friends in this world. 

It had been the same in his Author days as well, but atleast then he had family and friends to inspire bias and feelings; but here there was only one who Sans called family, and only one he wanted to be there for in every way, even if it meant feeling emotions he had never been accustomed to or had any real control over (besides shoving them in a box in the back of his skull).

Papyrus was his exception, his family, his anchor in the storm and lighthouse in the fog. Sans wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone if they made Papyrus cry, regardless of why.

Sans had been dumped here in the middle of this body’s teenage years with very little to go on. The original Sans himself couldn’t remember a whole lot and when their souls were forced together, the Author’s conscious won out. The original was still here, but now he was more of an addition or quirk in the dominants personality. 

Sans tried not to think too hard on it; every time he did, it triggered a panic attack.

But this left very little for the newly formed Sans to go on, and now he had to deal with a babybones he simply didn’t know how to care for- something even the original hadn’t been clear on. 

Sans remembered standing in the snow holding Papyrus, just staring down at the child in his hold and thinking, “What now?”

This wasn’t his brother, wasn’t his child or charge or anything really, so what did he do with him? 

He could see if anyone wanted to adopt-

NO! Part of him screamed. NO NO NO! 

Sans had flinched in pain, his skull ringing with the sound.

Okay! He had thought, Okay, but we need to figure out what to do here, and where we can go. We can’t raise a child without essentials and a place to keep him safe in.

Luckily there were memories of a home only a few yards away that belonged to Sans, a small blessing in the cold reality of the situation he’d found himself in. 

He’d brought the sleeping bundle back home and tried to settle himself down at the awfully shaded couch, just to gather himself, but this wasn’t meant to be as the bundled Papyrus woke up as soon as Sans had taken a seat.

Sans prepared himself for screaming or crying (he’d never had to deal with babies before) but instead got a happy little gurgle and little boney hands waving around in the air.

It was adorable, but incredibly off putting. Sans just didn’t know what to do in this situation.

Give him your hand, a part of him whispered. 

But what if I hurt him? Sans had worried. 

He didn’t get an answer, so Sans sucked it up and gently shifted the bundle into a stable hold in his one arm to free up his other hand. He’d hesitated, but carefully offered a finger for the little one to grab.

Papyrus had latched on almost instantly with a coo and shoved Sans finger in his mouth.

“Ha! Little one I am not food.” Sans had denied, carefully trying to take his finger back. The little bones just gripped harder and made little “nyom nyom” sounds around his knuckle.

“Oh no, you’re too cute!” Sans whined, “My adorable little brother, how am I ever going to tell you ‘No?’”

It was a slip of the tongue, barely even a conscious thought, but somewhere in his skull something snapped into place with a click.

This child WAS his; his little brother, his baby to care for. Papyrus needed Sans to take care of him and Sans was willing to do it.

This was HIS child.

Sans’ magic reacted quickly and violently, snapping in the air unseen like static in dry air. It was a possessive show, spreading out while also wrapping carefully tight around the bundled child in Sans’ arms. 

It was the first time his magic had dyed anything yellow, and the only time it had moved that fast ever, but Sans hadn’t hardly noticed it. 

Papyrus was His, and Sans won’t let anyone take him away.  
——-

Error had, with some...convincing, dragged Ink back down to the first floor.

This consisted of Error lowering the Creator down into the (shark pit) first floor via pulley system on the second floor landing. It was tedious, and Error grumbled at the blatant misuse of his phenomenal cosmic powers, but 88 denied the more satisfying solutions on the grounds of them being too violent and Ink being unable to protect himself from injuries while bound to 88’s door.

Error got the feeling this was more retribution for the doors than any kind of care for the intruders safety.

Meanwhile the rainbow abomination spewed out words and puns left and right, each time glancing to where 88 stood stoically presiding over the (eager) masses on the second floor landing.

Error figured out real quickly what Ink was up to when a decently clever pun got a snort from his friend and the Creator smugly muttered a “Gotcha!” under his breath.

Error decided Ink’s hard work deserved a reward, and so Error let go of his strings and watched Ink fall the rest of the way.

Too bad it was only a few feet. 

“Error.” 88 said sternly above him. Error knew his friend pretty well though, and spotted the miniature smirk trying to grow on 88’s face.

Error just smirked and shrugged, “Whoops.”

Nightmares group quickly descended onto the prone color bomb, but Papyrus was quicker and jumped in front of them.

“Move kid, we don’t want to hurt you.” Horror ordered, the others hesitating around him.

Papyrus just blew raspberries at them, which instantly set off Dust.

“You little-!” Nightmare was quick to pull the skeleton back. 

“Wha- Nightmare, let me go! I’m gonna teach this brat a lesson!” Dust shouted, struggling in the goopy hold, arms flailing forward as if he could grab the kid from there. He was so focused on the kid, he didn’t notice the others slowly backing away.

Nightmare tightened his hold, giving a warning (painful) squeeze that finally convinced Dust to settle down.

“Dust, look up.” He muttered, glancing up himself. His captive reluctantly did as told.

Dust froze, eye lights shrinking with fear. 

Error stood with strings at the ready, a threatening glare on the group, but up above with arms crossed behind his back, dead eye sockets, and a sharp grin, stood 88. He wasn’t doing anything, wasn’t even breathing really, just watching.

Though they stood at two different levels it felt like Error and his friend were of the same wavelength; seconds from action, tensed in preparation. The air crackled with tension and magic, and Dust felt his clothes start to cling from static.

Dust wondered if this was how the humans felt in the Judgment Hall.

“So does anyone want to untie me or...?”

88 blinked and suddenly everyone could breath.

Dust hated to be grateful for anything when it involves the Creator, but thank the stars Ink didn’t know when to shut up.

Error grunted and put away his strings, and that was enough to reassure Nightmare that it was safe to put Dust back on his feet. 

“Sorry sir, but brother says you have to swear to follow the rules first.” Papyrus stated, crouching by Ink’s head.

Ink huffed, “That doesn’t seem very fair to me. Those guys aren’t tied up!”

Papyrus saw his brother appear beside him, standing over them both.

“Nightmare has agreed to my terms, and his subordinates are here to give me their own answer in person. They are my guests.” Sans stressed, a stern glare trained on the Creator.

Ink pouted, “If I swear too will you let me go?”

Papyrus looked up at his brother, who had a look on his face Papyrus hadn’t actually seen in while; A cold, considering glint in his eye lights.

Papyrus grabbed the edge of Sans shorts and tugged, trying to get his brother to look at him. Sans wasn’t himself when he got like this, and Papyrus had learned awhile back that his brother went back to normal when he saw something he cared about. 

Sure enough, when Sans actually focused on his little brother, the look vanished under a warmer one of content. 

“Yeah bro?” He murmured, joining Papyrus in his crouch over Ink.

“You did the thing again.” Papyrus whispered back. 

Sans frowned and kept his tone low, “Sorry, didn’t realize. Did I scare you?”

The younger skeleton shook his head, and Sans sighed with relief.

“I hate to interrupt whatever this is,” Ink stage whispered, “But I think Error is tightening the strings and I’m starting to loose feeling in my arms.”

Papyrus’ brother shot an unimpressed look down at the Creator and Papyrus giggled.

“No harm or damage done to anything or anyone in this AU,” Sans sighed out, “And especially no harm done to my little bro here. Do you agree to my terms?”

“That’s it? No contracts, blood packs, hand shaking?” Papyrus wasn’t entirely sure what those were, but Sans seemed to and he didn’t look amused one bit.

“Do you agree or not?” 

For the first time since being here, Ink actually looked serious.

“I agree to your terms.”

The two stared down at each other, and for a second Papyrus thought he felt a flash of magic in the air.

Sans grinned, “Error, would you be so kind as to release the Creator of Worlds?”

“Wait- seriously?” Error asked incredulously, “You know there’s no guarantee that he’ll actually follow those rules, right?”

Sans turned to Error just enough that Papyrus couldn’t see his face.

“He will if he knows what’s good for him.”

Papyrus could see Error’s face though, so he saw the other’s torn expression.

“Error, trust me when I say he won’t do anything while he’s here.”

That seemed to be good enough for Error.

“On your head then.”

Ink shot up with a cheer, and the others groaned when he started fluttering around looking at everything and telling the worst puns Sans had ever heard.

As things settled down Sans felt a twinge in the base of his spine. He winced, hands and teeth clenching in pain briefly before doing his best to hide it; If Error or Papyrus saw that Sans would be mother hen’d so hard for days. Days!

So Sans made due with subtly rubbing the spot, faking a back stretch and yawn. 

Inwardly Sans worried. He’s made of bones, just bones; no cartilage or tendons or padding between the joints, no nerves either. Realistically there wasn’t any reason he should have felt any pain in his body if there wasn’t an injury.

...Except there was, wasn’t there? He was made of bones, yes, but also magic. He didn’t have all those meaty bits anymore, but that just meant something else had to take over or he’d be a pile of scattered dust on the floor.

And what were all monsters made of? Magic. 

But that didn’t make sense, his magic rarely did any sort of extra stuff besides keep him functioning (unless prompted) just because of its lack of speedy response. Why would it take the time to fake an injury?

Sans got a bad feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: *holding child away from him*  
> 88: I’ve never even held a Human child, I can’t take care of this  
> Papyrus: *does adorable thing*  
> 88: Nevermind this child is my child and anyone who wants him will DIE.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha! I’m so not confident in this chapter! But it’s been days! And I feel the need to create!

Sans woke up with a start. Damn, another one? So soon? He rubbed an eye socket with a shaking hand.

Stars he was so tired.

Sans shifted to grab his blanket and turn over, but halfway through turning he realized he was on the couch, and his blanket was actually his little bro who was draped all over him.

Smiling, he took a quick glance around and did a head count (that took three tries). Sans nodded, satisfied that everyone was with him in the living room; though, why they were all asleep in one place was beyond him.

Somewhere in the night someone, probably Papyrus, had moved the coffee table to the side and had piled probably every blanket and comforter in the house as high as possible to make a sort of mattress on the floor.

Piled on top of the “mattress” was the dark Sans’ all cuddling into sleepy balls of bones against each other. Cute.

Leaning back in the recliner and acting like he was asleep was Nightmare in all his goopy glory.

Sans sighed and shifted, carefully making sure not to jostle the three skeletons all over him. Why Ink was allowed in the cuddle pile with Error and Papyrus, who the hell knows, but Sans really wished Ink’s elbow wasn’t digging into his ribs like they were.

“That ability of yours is quite peculiar.” 

Sans glanced over to the skeleton and shrugged very carefully, trying not to jostle Error’s head.

“Not sure what yer talkin about, but my magic is weird as shit.” He muttered back.

He could just barely see a tentacle thrash behind Nightmares back, like a cat’s tail. 

Nightmare opened his eye sockets and glanced over, eye light glowing bright in the near pitch black room; it lit the entire room in a very dull, barely there turquoise.

“Dude, turn that shit off. You’re gonna wake ‘em up.” Sans mumbled irritably.

Nightmare smirked, “It won’t, not while your magic is all over them.”

Of course not, Sans groaned in his head. Damn it all, I just want to sleep.

“Wha’ are you even talkin about.” Sans drew up the energy to ask.

“You fell asleep awhile ago while we were watching the TV. Next thing I know there’s a pile of insomniac skeletons sleeping on the floor and two gods who aren’t known for sleeping at all completely passed out on top of you.” 

“Sounds complicated.” Sans muttered, eye sockets drifting shut.

“It doesn’t work on me however because of my own defense, but you wouldn’t know that. But why go to the-“

It really started to sound like Nightmare was mumbling to himself, so Sans took that as permission to go back to sleep.

“Hey, pay attention.” Followed by a quiet smack to the knee. Sans jolted back to awareness, and leveled a lightless glare onto the culprit.

“Stop.” 

Nightmare smirked, “So you do have limits. I was beginning to wonder.”

“I don’ like people fuckin with me when ‘m tryin ta sleep.”

“Also not as refined.”

“Nightmare, is th’r a point ta this?” Sans asked.

Nightmare huffed, “My...brother, Dream, he has magic that acts similarly to this; but your’s doesn’t inspire positivity, neither does it spread out constantly to the people around it to try and make them happy. It’s strange.”

“‘M not a kindness soul, Nightmare,” Sans pointed out tiredly, holding back a yawn, “Nor am I your brother.”

“I’m well aware of that, but-“

“M’ magic is yellow. It’sa huge pain in my ass and doesn’ like being told what ta do.” Sans mumbled, cutting him off, “And it definitely doesn’ care if others are happy er not. That’s all up ta me.”

“But your magic has to follow some sort of pattern; no Sans is ever truly unique!” Nightmare whispered loudly. Sans shot a quick glance around to make sure everyone was still asleep before glaring harder at the goopy skeleton.

“As you c’n see, ‘m not followin a pattern. Wouldn’t say ‘m original, but definitely not factory made. Despite what you b’lieve, no Sans is.”

Nightmare glared back, “How would you even know if you’ve never left your own universe?”

Sans pointedly looked at the Sans’ on the floor. Nightmare picked up on it.

“They’re different. They made choices that changed them.” Nightmare denied.

“So did I.”

“Really?” Nightmare mocked, “Was it what you had for dinner earlier?”

Sans carefully pointed at Error, “How many Sans d’you know who’d let this one in their house, let alone sleep next to ‘m?”

The room got quiet for awhile.

Sans started to fall back asleep when something hit his knee again; He growled, starting to get pissed.

“Easy, I just wanted to ask one more thing.” Nightmare murmured. Sans huffed and settled back down.

“What.”

“Your nightmare, may I have it?”

The two stared at each other for a moment; Sans with a thoughtful stare and Nightmare tensing with anticipation when he realized he might get a positive answer.

“What’r you gonna do with it?” Sans asked, wanting to clarify what was being asked of him.

“Eat it.” 

“Why? Didn’ you have ‘nough at dinner?”

“No, normal food can’t satisfy my hunger.” Nightmare said, goopy tendrils agitatedly starting to twitch behind him.

Sans hummed. Something to contemplate later, he supposed.

“Does it hurt?” 

“No.” Nightmare said quickly, a hungry smile quickly growing on his skull. It would have been scary had Sans not been beyond tired.

Sans sighed, unable to see a good reason not to.

“Go for it.”

Nightmare stood quickly and Sans watched in surprise as he practically shortcutted in front of him. The goopy skeleton brought up a hand and swung at Sans’ face.

Sans flinched and shut his sockets tight, expecting a blow.

...

...

Sans carefully peeked, and then threw his sockets opened when he realized he wasn’t on the couch anymore.

“What the fuck.” He said, staring at a familiar glass door.

“Ah yes, nice of you to finally join me,” Nightmare called from behind, “Although this is not what I imagined your nightmare would look like.”

“This isn’t what I imagined you meant by eating either, so I guess we’re both got a surprise.” Sans grumbled, marching his way over the short gap between them to stand by the goopy skeleton.

It was raining, the wind was blowing leaves off the twin trees in the yard and rain under the old metal covering. Plants in pots swayed with the strong breezes, and Sans felt his clothes try and follow along.

They were standing on an old concrete porch in a rainstorm.

“Where are we?” Nightmare asked, taking a step forward and putting out a goopy hand into the rainfall. He had not seen rain in so long...

Sans frowned and turned to stare at the back door.

“Home.” He murmured. 

Nightmare quickly twisted around to his taller companion, confused.

“You’ve been to the surface? I thought you’d never seen it before?” 

“I haven’t,” 88 said, “This isn’t the surface of my AU (at least I hope not), this is where I lived before.”

“...lived before? You’re from another AU?” He asked, but 88 didn’t answer, choosing to stare into the translucent back door. 

Nightmare was about to ask what was wrong, when he finally noticed the voice under the harsh sound of rain on metal.

He couldn’t pick out exact words, but he could hear what sounded like an older woman crying. Nightmare glanced over to 88, and caught the Sans blinking away tears.

“Who is that?” He wondered, not really meaning to ask out loud.

88 inhaled sharply and rubbed at his sockets, “Someone I care a great deal about; someone I miss.”

Nightmare watched his ally walk over and solemnly place a hand on the glass. 

“Why don’t you just open the door?” 

88 glanced over to him and sighed, “It won’t open, I’ve tried.”

He saw Nightmare getting ready to say something and quickly interrupted.

“I wouldn’t want to anyway. There are worse things to dream of then a closed door.”

They listened to the woman sob, 88 cringing and grimacing subtly with every wail. 

The storm around them grew stronger but Nightmare thought he heard a name under it all. He repeated it out loud thoughtfully.

88 turned sharply, “Don’t say that.”

Nightmare repeated it curiously, and got a glare for his trouble.

“Yes that, now stop.”

“Who is it?” He wondered.

“No one. Drop it.”

Except when the woman wailed it just a bit louder, 88 was quick to turn back; a look on his face like the name physically hurt to hear; and then it clicked.

“It’s your name.” Nightmare breathed out.

The taller skeleton glared at him, snapping, “Yes, okay, fine! It’s my name! Now please stop using it!”

Nightmare shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

“Small mercies then.” The other snarked nasally, turning away from him.

Nightmare heard the woman sob 88’s name again, and watched the taller one’s shoulders start to shake, one hand gripping the other tightly. 

88 may have said he didn’t want to open the door, but it was very clear the opposite was true. 

How many dreams like this has Nightmare had himself over the years? how many times had he heard Dream call him NightNight and cringed?

“I won’t say it again,” he decided, “But I want something in return.”

88 stubbornly refused to face him, but Nightmare saw his skull tilt slightly; he was listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So real talk. I need y’all’s opinion.
> 
> Do you want 88 to fall in love with someone? If no, say no in the comments. If yes, name your skelly. It’s not going to change a whole lot plot wise, but I want to try my hand at wee bit of romance before the promised couple takes the spotlight.
> 
> Error is not an option, just in case any of you got ideas...*suspicious stare*


	19. Side Quest 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws a curve ball*

Everyone decided to do their own thing after Ink was let loose. 

Nightmare’s murder children, as 88 playfully dubbed them, decided to gather in front of the TV and watch some movies the Sans had hoarded from the dump over the years. Anything but Mettaton, they said.

That’s how the children of the corn discovered the Lion King. Cross was especially engrossed in poor Simba’s plight.

Papyrus had stollen Ink away into the corner of the kitchen after asking a thousand and one questions about what it meant to be a Creator of Worlds and figuring out that Ink was a very competent artist. He’d asked for art lessons, and Ink was happy to oblige.

That left Nightmare and Error watching everything from the kitchen table and 88 humming quietly in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make for dinner.

So of course the peace couldn’t last, and it was broken in the form of Error starting to grumble in agitation.

That quickly devolved into throwing his chair back and yelling at the ceiling.

“NO, I DON’T!”

This scared the ever loving heck out of pretty much everyone. Cross screeched and almost threw the remote, Dust and Horror startled awake on the couch, Killer (who was sitting on the floor with cross) jumped up and pulled out a knife.

Nightmare leaned as far away from Error as he could get, somewhat used to this behavior. Papyrus accidentally drew a line through his entire little art project and Ink jumped but quickly went to reassure the little bones next to him.

88 ran out of the kitchen with a skillet in hand.

“WHERES THE THREAT?!” He shouted.

Error had the gall to look at 88 like he was the insane one.

“Put that down, I was just shouting at the voices.”

His friend stared at him and Ink jumped up.

“You can hear them too?!” The color bomb asked. 

Everyone started settling down when they realized there wasn’t any danger. Cross and his friends grumbling and going back to the movie.

Papyrus went over to stand by his brother, still upset, and 88 put the skillet down to hug him.

Nightmare was glaring at the two Gods who were in various stages of excitement over the new discovery.

“You mean this whole time you h-h-heard them too?” Error asked incredulously. Ink nodded excitedly.

“Why weren’t you reacting to them then?!” The glitchy skeleton demanded.

“Oh! I learned a long time ago that if you-“ Ink leaned in to whisper the rest, which Error reluctantly allowed.

Nightmare went over to join 88 and his brother.

“-kay? And then you can drink it in front of Error for revenge, how does that sound?”

Nightmare was instantly hit with the zingy taste of batteries; the two in front of him were plotting revenge, it seemed.

Interesting.

88 stood up and glared over at the gossiping gods, “Hey, mind telling me what happened? Why’d you shout like that?”

Error eagerly broke away, having enough of Ink being that close to him.

“The voices were asking stupid questions again!” He growled.

88 perked up with interest, “Yeah? What were they saying now?”

“Something about if I knew your secrets or some bull. They were pissing me off, so I yelled.”

Nightmare watched 88 closely, wondering with interest what his reaction would be, but 88 ended up disappointing him with a blank stare.

“Huh. Well. Are they still bothering you?”

Error grumbled and crossed his arms.

“Yeah.” He reluctantly revealed.

The yellow skeleton shrugged and bent down to pick up the plotting Papyrus.

“Welp, in that case. Tell ‘em I’m open for any questions they want to ask.”

Nightmare and Error’s jaws practically fell off. Ink, who’d been watching quietly, jumped up with a ‘WHOOP!’ and did a little dance.

“This is going to be so much fun!” 

*Ink and Error are now open for questions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. Ask away! Further my plot with [INTERACTION]
> 
> (This actually is kind of important to the plot though. There’s going to be questions regardless, but I wanted to give y’all a chance to ask the characters directly.)


	20. Side Quest 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I swear I love each and every one of you. I laughed so hard at some of your questions, just imagining the skeletons responses.

“Question for 88: if your clothing didn't turn yellow when you put it on what color would you wear most often?”

88 felt a bit uneasy at the sudden stares he was getting, especially from the dark Sans, but really thought that question over.

“Hmm, well, believe it or not I actually prefer darker colors- purple, dark blue, so on and so forth.”

“Brother really likes purple though!” Papyrus piped up from 88’s arms. 

“Wait- can we back up to the part where this guys clothes change color?” Killer asked, pointing at ‘this guy’.

“Nah, they’ll probably ask about that soon enough.” 88 denied. Killer and Cross huffed from the floor.

Weren’t they watching a movie? 88 absently wondered.

Error moved on.

“If you some how became an Outcode like Ink and-“ Error paused, a bit weirded out on using his name in third person, “-Error, what do you think your crazy powers will be? P.S. have this special made peanut butter and chocolate pie.”

“Wait, what?” 88 asked dubiously. Sure enough a pie clattered onto the kitchen table.

Everyone just sort of paused and stared before Horror launched over the couch, closely followed by Killer. 

“FOOD!” They shouted, just before Nightmare caught them in his goopy tentacles. They struggled and whined pretty uselessly in the vice like hold before both got jostled.

“Knock it off.” Nightmare warned, “It’s not yours.”

88 Checked it over.

Peanut Butter/Chocolate Pie  
*Taste great and heals Max HP  
*Could totally feed a small army

The Sans felt himself shudder violently, but he sat his brother down to go grab some dessert plates and a pie knife.

“Alright, everyone who wants a slice better get in line!” 88 called, going over and cutting the poor, unsuspecting pie into even slices. 

Nightmare reluctantly sat his own children down, and they took off to stand obediently in line- or, they would have had they not been fighting the whole way over to get there first.

While those two were distracted with each other, Error snatched a plate and a piece for himself. 88 just watched this with tired amusement.

88 turned to Ink (who was waiting for everyone to grab a slice first- the fool) while the others metaphorically fought to the death.

“So, what’s an Outcode?”

“Oh!” Ink’s eyelights shifted to a green clover and a yellow star, “It’s sort of what Error and I are, and the others too I guess; people who are able to leave their world behind, or don’t have a world at all.”

“Huh.” 88 muttered thoughtfully before snapping at Dust, “One slice! There’s only enough for everyone to have one!” 

“But there’s only eight slices, and there’s nine of us.” Papyrus pointed out.

88 saw Horror freeze out of the corner of his socket but didn’t really think much of it.

“Yup. I’m not getting one.”

“But I thought this pie was for you?” Papyrus asked. 88 felt a bit nauseated.

“Trust me bro when I say it’s better if I don’t eat it.” Then he quickly changed the subject, “As for being an Outcode and ‘Having crazy powers’, I really hope I don’t end up becoming one. I like where I am, and I’ve already got a power I don’t know how to use, I really don’t want to add to it.”

Horror stared guiltily at his crummy plate.

Error coughed to get everyone’s attention, “Have you ever accidentally dyed someone else’s clothes yellow? Not Papyrus, but out in town or elsewhere in the underground?”

“Pfft, is that really all they’ve got? Man, I thought they were gonna ask some super personal questions or something; and no, I haven’t. Dying things seem to require contact, and I’m actually not all that fond of touching strangers-“ A thought suddenly occurred to him, “-but you know what? Now that I think of it, Papyrus’ clothes don’t change colors, even with prolonged periods of contact. It’s weird.”

Ink hummed thoughtfully, “That is quite the mystery, actually. Maybe your Magic’s are similar in nature?”

He actually went on and asked more questions, but 88 just sort of tuned him out in favor of prodding Error for another question.

“Why teeth?” Error asked, and 88 saw some skeletons frown, probably confused.

“Error, buddy, your gonna have to be more specific than that.” 88 said, though inwardly he wondered how anyone knew his attacks were just teeth. 

Error groaned, “Why are your bone attacks Teeth?”

“Uhh...” The yellow Sans shrugged, “I got bored one day?”

“You know what, I’ll take that.” Error declared, but Cross and Ink whined at the unsolved mystery. They cut themselves off when they realizing who else had made that sound, staring (glaring in Crosses case) at each other. 

“Next question please?” 88 asked, shuffling over to the table to take a seat. The others seemed to realize they’d just been standing around too at this point and quickly found their own. Papyrus happily climbed into his brother’s lap.

The table quickly filled, movie long forgotten.

“Ooh! There’s one for Error!” Ink excitedly pointed out, “Do you think Blue and 88 would get along like a house on fire? I do. Their kitchen creations would be most interesting.”

“Blue?” 88 asked, trying figure out why that Creator thought they’d get along. Error took it as ‘who’s Blue?’ however, and started sweating a bit. This was not how he wanted 88 to find out about his other friend; and knowing Ink, 88’ll find out about the whole kidnapping thing pretty quickly if he didn’t get them onto another question soon.

“Blue likes everyone, and this weirdo-“ very pointed stare, “-doesn’t seem to care about what kind of person you are until it bites them in the ass, so yes. Next question!”

“With 88, does his touch make you glitch like with others or since you've been friends with him and got to know him and Papyrus, do their touch not hurt anymore?” Ink...translated?

88 gazed at his friend with alarm, “Touching hurts?! Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Error grumbled, “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

Ink decided to be a little shit, “I saw Fresh tackle you from behind once and you screamed like you were melting!”

He said that with a smile, and 88 gave him a disturbed look and muttered “What the fuck?” under his breath.

The other’s didn’t seem surprised by this, and a couple (Nightmare and Cross) shuddered at the mention of this Fresh guy. 88 took it as the sign it was and made a mental note to be weary.

“Well?” Ink prompted, and Error sighed.

“I still glitch, but not as bad as it was. It helps that most touching is instigated by me. Personally I think you-“ he looked at 88, “-probably have some sort of touch aversion yourself, right?”

88 shrugged while the others considered this with varying levels of intrigue.

“Why is that, I wonder?” Nightmare asked himself, unknowingly echoing Ink’s exact thoughts. Papyrus stared up at his brother curiously, having never noticed.

Error and 88 made sure to skip over the bit of the question involving Papyrus. Error still hasn’t actually touched him, and neither wanted to risk upsetting the child.

“I've had this thought in my head for a while now. (I watched Wreck it Ralph) Would you be like Vanellope and not be able to leave your AU if it decides to destabilize. I know you'd make sure Papyrus got out ok but would you be able to?” Ink voiced.

While the three of the four dark Sans muttered confused questions to Cross (who apparently had a thing for watching movies), The two gods, demigod, and little brother stared at the taller sans curiously.

Papyrus didn’t really understand the question all that well, but he got the general idea and it worried him. Would his brother be left behind if something bad happened?

“Right, well, first off- My home is unstable?” 88 asked the other three (specifically Error though) worriedly.

“Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know,” Ink took a sip out of the blue vial, “Your actually really lucky! Your Creator must have really loved this world for it to be so well developed without actually being finished, but that’s just the thing- it isn’t complete.”

Error picked up the slack when his friends face twisted into a pained grimace.

“It’s not a death sentence, some worlds have been known to function on less, but outside I-I-influences can easily throw whatever balance your world has off and Boom! There goes Undertale #88.”

“Ah, well, in that case maybe you guys should answer this question? Would I actually be able to leave?” 88 worried.

The two Gods glanced at each other for a second before shrugging.

“It’s honestly entirely up to how much your AU relies on you to further it’s structure,” Ink said, “If your just another person in this universe then it shouldn’t be a problem, but G’s world completely collapsed without him. Stars knows what would happen if your world was collapsing with you still in it.”

88 cringed and tightened his hold on his brother, “Then that Voice was correct, I’d get Papyrus out even if it killed me.”

“No!” Papyrus cried, turning and wrapping his arms around his brothers ribs, “No, no, no! I don’t want to go if your not coming with me!”

Many of the Sans in the room winced and floundered at the sudden shift in the little bro’s attitude.

“Gck! P-paps, my ribs!” 88 gasped.

“Noooooo!” Oh boy, this flew right past tears and straight into tantrum territory.

88 shot a look at Error, mentally screaming “Help!” 

“U-U-Uh...hey! Papyrus! One of the voices want to tell you something!” Error exclaimed. 

Papyrus just hugged harder. Ack! Why was this child so strong?! Ink took a sip of green and orange before looking around for a solution.

“They say your a good kid, a-a-and they want you to have this cookie!” 

In his hand was a sugar cookie. 88 wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with strangers giving his brother food, but you know what? Anything to save his ribs!

Papyrus stuttered out a watery “N-no?” and looked over, somewhat distracted.

Ink jumped in frantically, “And hey! Listen to this! papy! ya tha cutest! kawaiiiiest! cinnamon lil rascal! japester! cuteest lil bro i've ever seen in all of the multiverse; protect ya big bwother for me kay!?”

Papyrus sniffed, and 88 worried it wasn’t enough, but then he giggled and loosened his grip. 

Oh, thank you sweet merciful volleyball Jesus on a pogo stick! 88 prayed.

“W-whats kawaii?” Papyrus asked, taking the offered cookie and turning back around.

“Uh, I think it means cute?” Ink checked his scarf, “Oh! Yeah, it’s cute.”

His little brother shoved the entire cookie into his mouth and shouted a muffled “Fank oo!” with a blue blush over his adorably happy skull.

Ah man, I wish I had a cookie. 88 thought, getting kind of hungry from all the food he hasn’t gotten to eat; he’d even nibble on the pie if there was any left. A quick glance at the clock explained it for him.

“Alright, I think it’s time we take a break from all this. You guys staying for dinner?”

Horror, still feeling bad about taking the other’s food, jumped up from his seat.

“I’ll help you make it.” He offered.

Nightmare huffed, “Guess that answers that question. You all okay with that?” 

He turned to his three other subordinates, who all gave him various signs of approval.

88 turned to the shorter (and worryingly thinner boned) skeleton, “Are you sure? I don’t mind making it by myself. I was thinking something easy, like a risotto. (I haven’t made one of those in a while.)”

Horror shook his head.

“You’ve fed us three times now. I owe you.”

88 hummed, “Well, if your sure. Do you know how to cut chicken into chunks?”

“If it’s a butcher you need, then you’ve got the right person.” Horror smirked. The taller Sans wondered if he should be worried, but shrugged it off.

“That’s good! I hate cutting up meat. The stuff always feels slimy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it wise to put a cannibal in a kitchen? Who knows! 
> 
> You may have noticed I jumped around and only used some of the questions. That’s because you guys gave me way more than I knew what to do with- and that SO AWESOME!!  
> So now I’m going to have to make more side quest bits :3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pssst, have a little thingy.

Sans was rather grumpy the next day. One, it was way too early. Two, he’d slept on a couch all night covered in elbows and knees. Three! He’d had to bribe the Guardian of Negativity, King of Nightmares, and Master of Goop himself just so Sans could get a decent bit of sleep and privacy. 

Okay, yes, Sans was aware he’d done this to himself; but Nightmare said ‘Eat’! In what way was that eating?!

So here he was, doing his job in Hotland.

Okay, maybe he was catching some Z’s at his post/hotdog stand, but Sans swears it’s unintentional!

Speaking of things unintended, here comes the kid.

“‘Sup? Here for a hot dog? Only 30g.” He called.

The human smiled and came closer, hand shuffling around in a pocket for coins; said coins landed on the counter softly.

Say what you want about the kids skills in a fight, but Sans honestly couldn’t say the child was rude. In fact, if it weren’t for the constant Reloads he’d probably even like the human.

“Thanks, kid. Here’s your ‘dog.” 

The human tilted their head at him, and Sans felt the words just come to him.

“Yeah, apostrophe dog. It’s short for hot dog.” The child giggled and reached in their pocket for more coins.

“You want another one?” Enthusiastic nods and more coins tapping on the counter.

“Alright, here ya go- oh, hey. Your inventor is full.” Ah yes, the curse of a full inventory. The human huffed and chewed on a lip.

“Hey, you know what? I’ll just put it on your head.”

A few minutes later and Sans was left amazed at the skillz on this kid. 27 hot dogs, stacked perfectly on each other, and the kid was barely twitching. 

“What are you?” He wondered. The kid just smirked, proud of themselves.

“Uh...well kid, hate to be frank with you, but I can’t stack anymore. I just can’t reach.” 

The human sighed, but seemed accepting of this; and then they started eating them right off their head.

“Are you sure your human? Is this a thing humans do here??” Sans incredulously wondered.

This was apparently funny to the child, and their giggles started a mini ‘dog avalanche. The child gasped and frantically tried to catch them, but the food flopped on the heated ground anyway.

The ridiculousness of the situation combined with the legitimately horrified look on the kid’s face set Sans off into peals of giggles and desperate gasps for air.

Yes, Sans could definitely see liking this kid in another life.  
——

Sans came home exhausted, overheated, and immediately suspicious. The front door, still sadly duck taped together, was still standing strong.

Sans approached the door with magic at the ready. It was quiet, too quiet.

The yellow Sans threw open the door and glanced around.

Error, Ink, and Papyrus all stared at him from the living room. Nightmare and his boys were nowhere in sight.

Sans quickly checked behind the door, and sighed with relief when no knife wielding or bone skewering skeletons jumped at him.

“Where’s Nightmare’s crew?” He asked, turning to the coat rack and taking off his outer jacket and shoes.

“Mr. Nightmare said he needed to go do something important.” Papyrus inputted helpfully, “He also said he’d be back in a few days.”

Error shot a glare at Ink, “I wish he’d taken the paint bucket with him.”

Ink just snickered.

“Actually, why are you here Ink?” 88 wondered.

Ink took a sip out of the blue and green vials. 88 had no idea what those colors meant, or why the home invader was drinking them near constantly, but you know what? The Sans was way too tired to care.

“You know, I don’t really remember.”

“Then why are you still here?!” Error demanded from his hammock in the corner.

88 stared at his swinging friend, finally registering the new addition to his home.

”I want to learn more about-“ Ink paused and looked over at his ‘new brother’, “Actually, what’s your name again?”

“WE LITERALLY SAID IT M-M-MORE THAN ONCE!” Error screeched while Papyrus and his brother stared blankly at the Creator.

“Oh! Could you repeat it then?” 

The strangest part was that Ink was being sincere. He even had his scarf held up with a pen to it.

“They, uh, call me 88.” The one called 88 replied.

“Well that’s boring!” Ink said while writing stars knew what on his clothing, “Can I give you a different name?”

Error took exception to this and tripped Ink with a string to the ankle.

“Oof! Error!” 

“I gave him that name you-!”

“Little ears, Error!” 88 cut in quickly.

Error looked like it physically pained him to hold his curses in, and 88 made a mental note to repay him in chocolate later.

“Tell you what, Ink. Find a nickname you like, and run it by me; if I like it I’ll let you call me that.” The Sans sighed, thoroughly done.

“Well in that case, can I call you Brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/beWYvSwnDcs
> 
> A totally accurate depiction of the future


	22. Side Quest 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Papyrus engaged Rage Mode*  
> *thankfully it’s only superficially effective!*

The room erupted into chaos.

“BROTHER?!” Error and Papyrus shouted in outrage, the younger’s sockets making a rare show of boggled eyelights. 

“Yeah!” Ink went on, either completely unaware of of their tone or completely uncaring, “Brother fits perfectly considering how similar he is in power, and eventually he will loose his AU too, so then he’ll be in the same boat as us! If he lives.”

88 smiled awkwardly, feeling a bit unnerved at the Creators flippancy. Soulless creature, he reminded himself, can’t really hold it against him; although the power comment was sort of flattering.

“Uh, well-“

“NO!” Papyrus shouted, running over and pointing rather angrily at Ink’s face, “He’s not your brother! You can’t have him!”

Ink quickly leaned away, barely dodging a poke to the nose hole only to have to lean sharply the opposite way to avoid a glitching sharpened bone to the side of the head.

The bone landed in the wall like a dart only a few inches from 88’s face.

“Gck!” 88 flinched away, startled, “What the-!”

“And like hell will he ever be like us!” Error screeched, leaning over the edge of the hammock. 

There was a fleeting thought that maybe 88 should go over there and catch the idiot if he overbalanced, but a slow trickle of annoyance twisted it. If Error fell, it would be karma for throwing an attack inside the house.

88 decided to stay where he was. In hindsight, he should have definitely moved.

Ink seemed a bit confused and kept glancing between the two upset monsters. 

“But he already is? And I don’t want to steal him from you, Papyrus; I can share!” 

The aforementioned Sans was starting to feel exasperated, especially when his little brother and best friend decided to team up and throw bones at Ink. Papyrus’ were kind of flimsy, and kept veering wildly off target just to ricochet off furniture and walls- but Error’s were actually very threatening and Ink got hit by Papyrus’ attacks more often than not just dodging Error’s. 

The problem was that 88 was directly behind Ink, and the dodging just meant the joint attacks flew past the Creator and came at him.

88 had never been in combat, ever; but the Sans of this body had some training (thank the stars) and 88 quickly figured out the under appreciated art of “Dodge like your life depends on it!”

Sans, even with a human’s soul and determination, didn’t have the highest HP. This wasn’t usually 88’s biggest concern in life, especially in a peaceful place like Undertale where the biggest threat was Muffet and The Core exploding one day, but now? Two upset monsters whose attacks were filled this the intent to hurt? Stars, if it wasn’t blaring through his mind like a giant screaming neon sign.

Ink glanced behind himself, checking on the taller Sans. He may have forgotten the other was there for a moment, but he could still hear the other jumping around behind him over the other two’s war screeches.

Coincidentally, he turned to the other just in time for one of the little bones’ attacks to whiz by Ink’s face and smack his brother’s shoulder.

Ink saw his new brother flinch and clutch at his arm, and the Creator quickly Checked the other (both still dodging attacks).

“Sans (88)”  
LV 1  
HP 10/20 (-5: exhaustion)  
AT ???  
DF ???  
EXP 0  
NEXT 10  
WEAPON None  
ARMOR None

*Doesn’t mind being called “Brother”  
*Understands you more than you think

What does that mean? Ink wondered, then his paint kicked in and a feeling of alarm zinged through his bones. Brother’s HP can’t handle these hits, especially not Error’s!

The Creator turned back, eye lights a mix of a red crosshair and yellow exclamation point.

“Enough!” He shouted, bringing his beloved Broomy around to knock the attacks back. The sudden change in demeanor was so unexpected that Error and Papyrus actually jumped, startled.

Ink took the opportunity to jump back and check on his new brother, carefully pulling the other’s hand away and prodding the effected shoulder carefully. He was no healer, but Ink knew how to judge the severity of an injury; Dream had stuffed that into his thick skull a long time ago.

“Sans?” Papyrus called, worried. Had one of his attacks hit his brother? Error jumped down behind him, a similar worry in his mind. 

“I’m okay bro, just a bruise.” 88 called over, hissing when Ink poked a particularly sore spot.

Ink nodded, both in satisfaction and confirmation; Brother would be fine.

For whatever reason though, the fact that his new brother got injured while Ink could have prevented it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

Papyrus waisted no time running up and hugging 88 around his waist, guilt weighing heavily on his soul. He’d only meant to hurt the stupid squid, not his brother!

Error was hovering on the opposite side of 88, away from the other god. The Destroyer was somewhat torn himself, knowing that he had nothing to feel bad for (his attack would have probably killed 88 right off the bat) but also that this whole thing could have been prevented had he just kept to cursing at the soulless freak.

Once again, Error let the Creator rile him up, and again he forgot to watch his surroundings. He was going to have to train that out somehow.

At that moment a particularly persistent Voice yelled out their concern, and both gods flinched from the overwhelming ringing in their skulls.

“Ugh! Yes! He’s fine, you over dramatic cry babies!” Error shouted out, pointedly yelling at the ceiling so his friend and little Papyrus wouldn’t get an ear full- not that they had ears, but still.

“What are they saying now?” 88 quietly asked Ink. It was probably the first time the taller Sans had directly addressed the Creator since their Agreement yesterday.

Ink, realizing this and feeling his yellow paint practically jump inside him to make excitement, quickly went to answer- only for Error to beat him to it.

“Apparently they saw your Stats and the whiners are worried about your health.” The glitch grumbled, crossing his arms.

Ink pouted, but quickly saw an opportunity.

“Actually, they’ve been asking questions almost nonstop. Do you want to hear some?”

Error and Papyrus gave him incredulous looks. This was a highly inappropriate time to ask that!

Ink just smiled and waited expectantly, eye lights flickering through various shapes and colors while waiting for an answer.

88 rubbed his aching shoulder and looked inward into himself. Was he up to it? He did just get home from a long day, and then there’s the whole Dodge Dodge Revolution he wasn’t expecting. 

But still, the curiosity swirled inside.

“...Alright, but only five.” 

“Woo!” Ink cheered, dragging Brother to the couch by his good arm. Once the Sans took a seat Ink plopped down as close as he could get, Papyrus following close behind; Error took the recliner.

“Hmm,” Ink wondered, listening closely for some questions he wouldn’t mind knowing himself, “Okay, I think I got it! What is your favorite food? Hobby? Do you hate wearing yellow all the time? What do you put in Error’s chocolate?”

“Uh, well,” Brother grimaced, not expecting all the questions to be asked consecutively, “I like pasta, but there’s this one dish that I’ve always had a hard time recreating; turns out you can’t make Chicken and Dumplings without, well, chicken.”

“But there aren’t any chickens down here. H-H-How didn’t you even-“ Error started asking. 88 quickly cut him off.

“I’m fond of writing! That’s my hobby. Stories, poetry, the occasional song if I’m feeling particularly bored; but they’re all mostly crap- especially the poetry. All the angsty poetry.”

“Hey! No, don’t say that!” Ink jumped in, offended on his brother’s behalf, “I’m sure it’s wonderful! Can I see it?”

88 paled, “Nope! Absolutely not!”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad!” 

“No. It’s all stupid anyway; I was just gonna throw it away.”

“But you love your stories.” Papyrus piped in quietly, confused, “You even made a bed time story for me when I asked, and I thought it was nice.”

88 scratched the side of his face (which he quickly snatched away when he saw Error glare at him), “Yes, well, that doesn’t mean they’re any good; and some of them can get...personal.”

The three skeletons frowned at him and 88 tried to move on, feeling the smallest twinge of a bad mood coming on.

“What were the questions again?” He asked Ink. Miraculously the Creator seemed to remember.

“Do you hate wearing yellow all the time, and what do you put in Error’s chocolate?” Ink asked again, still somewhat caught up in the other’s self deprecation of their own art.

“I actually kinda do.” The Sans sighed, “But the only thing that won’t dye is true black, and for some reason I haven’t been able to find any.”

“Oh! Maybe I can fix that!” Ink jumped up and swiped Broomy down onto his unsuspecting brother’s body. Dark Ink splattered over the Sans entire body, and 88 sputtered and did his best to wipe it off his face. 

He was just about to spout some sarcastic words at the Creator, when he felt the ink slowly dissipate. Looking down revealed a dark shirt.

“Huh. Thanks dude.” 88 muttered, then paused and eyed his shirt skeptically, “No, hold on; It can’t be that easy.”

“It is for me!” Ink proudly boasted. 88 shook his head though.

“Nah, Just wait for it...”

Ink (though pouting at the others lack of confidence) did, staring at 88’s shirt with curious confusion. Papyrus and Error watched as well.

Sure enough, only a minute passed when a soft white-yellow started bleeding through the black.

88 sighed, “It’s not dark enough. Thank you for trying though, Ink. As for what I put in the chocolate?”

Ink frowned, muttering theories under his breath which Papyrus listened to with interest. Error perked up at the mention of his favorite food and stared at his friend with laser focus.

88 shrugged, “it’s just regular chocolate.”

“What? No! That can’t be it!” Error denied, “Your world’s chocolate is better than abomination #13’s, and I used to think that was the height of perfection!”

“Don’t know what to tell you, Error. The most I do is make sure it’s edible for skeletons. Good old magic infusion.” His friend denied.

“...that’s why it doesn’t taste as good when I make it.” Error whispered with realization, glitches starting to sprout up around his body.

88 frowned, “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” The Destroyer swiftly denied.

“...right, well, if that’s all-“ the Sans started to push himself up when Ink immediately pushed him back.

“I still have one more question!”

88 huffed, a bit frustrated, “Didn’t you just ask five questions?”

“No,” Ink said, shaking his head, “I asked four, theres one more left.”

“Okay, ask away.” He replied, scooting back to get comfortable again.

“Why do the Voices keep calling you a Creator?”

...oh shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: ah man I’m like, super tired, but Inks giving me that look  
> 88: why am I so weak for these skeletons?   
> 88: they aren’t even that cute- except Papyrus   
> Papyrus: Nyeh heh heh!  
> Error: I AM THE CUTEST ABOMINATION THAT EVER LIVED HOW DARE YOU  
> Ink: I’d say that’s true if I actually thought that  
> Ink: but I happen to think I’m the cutest  
> *both try to prove their cuter*  
> 88: *hit with the cuteness* frick fine, whatever you guys want!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m quite proud of the chapter. It’s sooo much easier to write only a few people at a time.

Elsewhere in the multiverse, spreading chaos and bad intentions in an AfterTale, was our favorite troop of Dark Sanses.

Humans and Monsters alike ran around the area like screaming ants from a disturbed Ant pile. Cars and Trucks crashed into buildings, people, and other cars; a couple burst into flames!

Killer was killing, Dust was dusting, Horror was chopping people into little bits, and Cross was robbing a confectionery store of anything chocolate related. 

Nightmare just made sure everyone wasn’t doing something stupid. His boys tended to veer off into strange territory if left to their devices too long. As a bonus he got to absorb the negativity around him and think about the past couple of days.

Like the fact that this was all rather boring without Error, and why Nightmare couldn’t get his tendrils to attack in that other world.

The goopy skeleton will never admit it, but he’d actually grown to enjoy the glitchy god’s insane laughter amidst the terrorizing of civilizations. The Destroyer may not be fond of killing whole worlds, but he certainly had a thing for watching things fall apart; it was probably like kicking a sand castle to him.

Without that skeleton bulldozing everything to the ground, the destruction around him really wasn’t all that satisfying. It would seem Error’s presence has spoiled him a bit, Nightmare would have to correct this somehow.

As for his tentacles disobedience the other day, Nightmare honestly could not tell why they had acted in such a manner; He’d already tested them in this world, and they listened just fine. 

Perhaps it was just a fluke? 

No it couldn’t be, Nightmare thought, more than a thousand years had gone by and not once had they ever disobeyed him. So maybe it had something to do with that world?

...or maybe it had something to do with that deal.

Not the second one he’d made with that Sans (who’s nickname probably needed some work), but the first. The promise of no harm. 

Sure, Nightmare had intended to break that deal by taking the Sans back to his home and letting the other’s have some fun, but even 88 had expected it (even if he’d hoped otherwise).

Having gotten to know the taller one, Nightmare sort of regretted being the “back-stabbing Karen.” Plus being paraded (dragged) through the entire town by Error of all people while being tied uncomfortably close to his most loyal follower was more humiliating than the time his brother shot that blasted arrow-

No! He refuses to remember that!

Actually, speaking of his brother, where was that blinding sunbeam? Dream usually shows up when a place drops in positivity as sharply as this one did.

Nightmare sighed, posture slouched and skull in hand watching the chaos from the ledge of a five story roof. It’s not as interesting without his brother’s begging and the usual fight.

Maybe I should blow something up? He wondered.

Just as Nightmare thought that, a feeling like dread crawled up his spine. It reminded him of what his subordinates described feeling when the goopy skeleton first met them; a feeling of hopelessness or hate.

But this was different; it was fear, emptiness, a sense that you were staring into the deepest pit in the ocean from above.

Nightmare recognized this feeling, but where-

He sat up, alarm bells going off in his skull. 

“BOYS! ITS TIME TO GO!”

From almost directly below him, Dust looked up from his newest victim, some poor human that tried to be brave.

“Aww, but it was just getting interesting!” He whined. Nightmare knew the homicidal Sans was just messing around, but the Guardian knew there wasn’t time.

“Just go find the others!” He shouted down, “We need to leave now!”

Dust must have realized something was up, because he “finished his business” and took off really quick after that. Nightmare himself prepared for a fight he knew he couldn’t win.

He was a living nightmare, a Guardian of Negativity, a Demigod by most standards who’d been alive longer than a great many AUs. Nightmare could and has fought Error himself and lived to tell the tale; but even he can die, and it wouldn’t take long for that skeleton to find him. 

Death was an inevitability.

Dust ran back with Horror and Killer on his heels.

“Boss! We can’t find Cross!” Killer shouted up. Nightmare cursed under his breath.

There wasn’t time for this!

Reluctantly, he closed his sockets and tried to sense out the Xtale skeleton. He couldn’t have gotten far, so it would only take a second.

No, no, no, Nightmare frantically checked off, Where in the hell was that damn-

There!

“A couple blocks away!” He pointed up the street, “Go past that Stop sign, turn right, and then left! I’ll meet you there!”

The three nodded with a resolute glare in their eye lights and took off.

Now Nightmare just had to bring the God of Death to him. It wouldn’t do for his boys to be found before Nightmare.

If Nightmare himself didn’t have a chance, then his boys were snowballs in a wild fire.  
——-

“So do any of you know why the boss is so upset?” Horror called up to his slightly faster friends.

“I think I felt something earlier!” Killer called back, scanning the area for their youngest recruit while they ran, “I thought it was Nightmare, but if the boss got upset then it can’t be good for us!”

They finally took that left, and Dust could feel himself getting tired from the unexpected exercise. Magic was one thing, but actual running? Oh man was he sweating up a storm under his jacket. 

A glance at his friends told him that maybe Dust should start running more. If even Horror could go at this pace without sweating, then Dust was relying too hard on his magic.

“CROSS!” Killer shouted. 

Dust almost tripped from the unexpected volume, and snapped his head around to look at his friend.

Oh, he was trying to get Cross’s attention. Got it.

“CROOOOOOSS!” He called out in the opposite direction, slowing down. Horror Stopped completely and turned to some of the stores they’d run past.

“CROSSSSS!” The cannibal called, hands around his mouth.

“CROOOOOOSSSS!” They all cried loudly.

“WHAT?!”

They all turned sharply to a store just beside them where Cross had his skull poked out the front door.

Well that’s sort of embarrassing. Dust thought.

“Boss says it’s time to go!” Killer called back. Cross frowned and jogged over to the group.

“Why? We practically just started!” The younger asked.

Dust spotted a smear of chocolate on the Sans cheek and smirked to himself. Error was going to be so jealous when he finds out.

“Don’t know,” Horror said, “But Nightmare looked pretty worried, and if he’s worried...”

Cross got serious, “Then it’s nothing good for us.”

“Hey, that’s what I said.” Killer said with slight delight, which had Cross smiling too. Dust deadpanned at the two.

“That’s what happens when you hang out with someone too much.” Horror commented.

“It’s kind of creepy.” Dust muttered.

There was a flash then a BOOM! In the distance, toward the direction the three had come from, and then a second later a wave of heat.

All the Sans flinched and covered the sides of their skull; that had been LOUD, even for them.

Nightmare popped up next to Horror and quickly opened a dark rimmed portal.

“Get in!” He ordered.

Dust made sure the other three jumped in first before going in himself, but just before he went through he glanced back over to the blooming cloud of dust and debris in the distance. 

For a second he swore he saw a darkly cloaked skeleton flying out of it and towards them, just before Nightmare pushed him in and followed quickly after.

The portal snapped shut behind them.  
——

Error jumped out of his seat and walked over to the Squid, grabbing hold of as much of Ink’s scarf as he could and pulling him into the glitches space.

“And just what the hell kind of question is that?!” He demanded.

Ink blinked a couple of times, his eye lights twisting into different kinds of shapes and colors. He lifted up his hands, one gripping onto Error’s and the other hovering over the vials on his sash as if to pick one out.

Error thought he saw it hover over red for a second, but kept his eye lights on his enemy’s face.

“The Voices keep saying Brother-“ Error heard Papyrus squeak in protest, “-is a Creator. Specifically that he created this world,” Ink smiled, “Which is really cool if he did! That means I’ve got a brother with the same kind of power as me!”

Ink shot an excited smile at 88, and Error felt himself sneer (not seeing the anxious smile 88 shot back).

He shook the Color bomb, “As if I’d ever be friends with anyone like you! The Voices must have gotten something wrong; it wouldn’t be the first time!”

“Uh, hey Error?”

“What?!” Error snapped down to his friend. 88 gave him what he thought was a sheepish smile.

“Could you maybe let him go?”

He squinted at the other, “Why?”

“You’re uh, kinda blocking me.” Error frowned in confusion. 

88 sighed, “I would really like to stand up right now, especially if you two are going to start fighting again.”

Beside his brother, Papyrus nodded emphatically.

“Oh.” Error said. Holding his captive tighter he took a few steps to the side, dragging Ink with him to the side of the couch.

Error heard his friend sigh in relief and stand up, the old couch under him protesting the whole way.

“Phew! Thank you, Error. It was starting to get a bit uncomfortable there.” 88 said, patting himself down, “Hey, Papyrus? How about you go up to your room for a bit? I need to talk to these two for a bit.”

Papyrus tilted his head up to his brother, “Are you going to tell them off?”

88 grinned proudly and patted his little brother’s skull.

“Ya caught me! Your just too smart by half, I swear!” 

Papyrus giggled, pleased with the praise. Error and Ink watched the scene from the sidelines blankly, both wondering absently if they should be worried about an attack as soon as the little bones left the room.

“Now shoo! I’ll call you down when I’m done here.”

Papyrus happily ran up the stairs, slamming his door shut behind him.

88 groaned, “Looks like I’m gonna have to tell him off too when he gets back.”

Error flinched back when his friend suddenly turned to them, a cold glint in his eye lights. He felt like he was looking at a stranger.

“Right, so, first off; let go of Ink, Error.”

“Why should I? This Ink stain practically just insulted you.” Error refused.

“Your the only one upset about it, dude.” The Sans replied calmly. In his hold, Error felt Ink tilt his head while staring at 88.

Error just gripped onto the other harder, bringing up his free hand to his eye socket as if to gather strings.

“Error.” 88 sharply warned. 

Error hesitated, conflicted.

“...f-f-fine!” Error growled, pushing the artist away. Ink tripped over his foot and fell over backwards on the couch arm.

“Oof!”

Error looked back over to the taller Sans, who suddenly looked like his friend again. He didn’t know what that was, but he sure as hell didn’t want to find out.

“Thank you.” 88 smiled calmly.

“Tch!” Error grimaced, crossing his arms and looking off to the side.

Ink flailed around, trying to sit up and scoot off the couch arm without falling off. 88 went over and offered out an arm for balance, which the other took with a smile.

Error was reminded of how the two first met and felt something bitter in his soul fragment.

While Ink struggled out of the couch with 88’s help, 88 himself turned back to his friend.

He felt himself sigh, a quiet little exhale that went unnoticed by the glitch but got him a questioning glance from Ink. 88 ignored it.

Would he really stop being my friend when he learns I made this place? He thought, soul sinking. Does our friendship mean so little to him?

Keeping his face carefully blank, 88 helped push Ink the rest of the way over the couch arm. Ink landed on the other side feet first with a light thump, and wobbled slightly when he straightened up. 

88 grabbed his arm and tried to help steady him.

“Thank you!” Ink said once he stopped swaying, smiling up at him. For a second 88 just stared, an image of Error snapping at him superimpose over the Creator in his mind.

Quickly he snapped himself out of it, smiling back at Ink with a nod.

“Any time.” 88 absently replied.

I don’t want to loose any more friends, especially not Error, 88 thought; so he decided he wouldn’t. If Error asks 88 won’t lie to him, but like hell will he give the glitch a reason to drop him. 

If worse comes to worse...well, that’s for future 88 to deal with. Current him has a pouting Error to appease.

All three snapped their heads up when a dark rimmed portal opened up above the coffee table.

“Uh-“ and then a bunch of skeletons crashed down onto the poor piece of furniture, breaking it down the middle.

“Oh come on! Seriously?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NM: *contemplates life*  
> Boys: *having the time of their life*  
> Death: *about to end all their lives*  
> —-  
> Error: *angry hisses*  
> Ink: *The oblivious dog who doesn’t know what he did wrong*  
> 88: why do I do this to myself.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our overpowered skeletons absence has been noticed!

Papyrus knocked softly on the bedroom door.

“Hey, Bro. It’s time to get up.”

He heard a groan through the wood followed by a thump, and resisted the urge to giggle.

“‘M up!” A tired voice called back, barely audible. Papyrus raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Papyrus snorted, “So if I open the door you’ll be dressed?”

“...No.” 

Papyrus really giggled now, “Are you laying on the floor?”

“...Yes.”

“Come on bro, you’ve got a visitor in an hour don’t you?” He reminded.

It must have been the magical words, because suddenly there was a bunch of thumps and a pained yelp (“Shit!”) followed by the sound of frantic footsteps coming towards the door.

Papyrus wisely moved out of the doorway and went over to the stairs. 

A moment later the door he was just standing in front of burst open with a BANG! A frantic Sans still in a white T-shirt and a pair of shorts standing in its place.

Spotting his brother, Sans called out, “WHAT TIME IS IT?!”

“Couple of minutes past nine.” Papyrus called back calmly. 

Quicker than light, Sans ran back into his room, a drawn out scream of, “AAAAAAAAAA-“ emanating from the poor skeleton.

“My job is done.” Papyrus declared, leisurely making his way down the stairs.   
———

An hour later, ten o’clock on the dot, found Sans sitting anxiously perched on the couch waiting for a knock at the door; Papyrus leaning against the wall patiently.

Dream was a very polite guest, so Sans knew it would only be a matter of moments before his friend announced himself, but stars if the seconds didn’t feel like hours.

TAP TAP-

Sans rushed to the door and opened it before his friend could knock thrice. 

“Dream!” He cried happily, arms thrown wide to the sides and eye lights shining with stars.

“Blue!” His friend mirrored.

They both hugged enthusiastically, giggling and hopping in place a bit.

Papyrus walked over, “Welp, this is my cue to get out of here. Have fun bro, I’ll be at Muffet’s if you need me.”

“Okay! Be safe Papyrus!” Sans called as his brother slinked through the open front door. Dream echoed with his own quick greeting and goodbye.

Papyrus waved over his shoulder lazily before disappearing.

“Now then; Come on in!” Sans happily requested, “You said there was something important you need to tell me? Is Ink coming?”

Dreams smile fell slightly with worry but he walked in. Sans closed the door gently behind them.

“Actually, that what I wanted to talk about. Have you heard from Ink in the last couple of days?” Dream asked, turning to his friend.

Sans blinked, eye lights switching to plain blue circles.

“No, I haven’t. I figured you two had gotten busy fighting Error and your brother again.” 

Dream frowned, even more concerned, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

The two made their way to the kitchen, where Sans put on a pot of water to boil (dragged out his tea set) and Dream took a seat at the table nearby. It seemed like an appropriate time for the rarely used Golden Flower Tea.

Sans came to the table and took a seat facing the kitchen and his friend while he waited for the water to bubble. Sans gestured for the other to continue speaking.

“We were supposed to meet up for the usual patrol two days ago, but when I stopped by the Doodle Sphere I couldn’t find him.” Dream started, fiddling with his gloves, “And earlier today I swore I felt my brother creating Negativity in an AU, but by the time I got there everything was in ruins and Nightmare was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t even the usual destruction Error likes, and Ink hadn’t mentioned him destroying anything in awhile, so I’m beginning to wonder if Error isn’t missing as well.”

Sans frowned, glancing to his phone. He hadn’t heard from Error in a while either, but Sans had just thought his destructive friend was...busy.

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” He wondered out loud, “Those two are constantly up to something, and Nightmare would never give up halfway, right?”

Dream shook his head, looking down at his hands.

Sans frowned thoughtfully, staring at his friend and trying to think of some way to solve this mystery.

He heard the sizzle of water hitting the stove and jumped up, rushing through the kitchen doorway.

Dream watched him go, his own worried thoughts spiraling. 

His brother never gave up halfway through a raid unless someone forced him back, but with Ink and Error out of the picture who could possibly have chased him away? Where did he even go? Dream checked Nightmare’s home from outside HavenTale and couldn’t feel his brother or Cross in there. It actually felt like they hadn’t been there in a few days either, maybe longer.

Just what was going on?

Dream jumped when a mug tapped onto the table a bit roughly in front of his face.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to smack it down that hard. Are you okay?” His friend asked, looking down at him worriedly.

“Yes! Sorry, I was a bit distracted.” Dream waved off, grabbing the warm mug in both hands and taking a tentative sip, “Oh! Golden Flower! Thank you, Blue!”

Blue smiled, pleased, “Your very welcome!”

The other returned to his own seat, settling in with his own mug; the two fell into thoughtful silence.

“Mm!” Blue hummed questioningly, “Actually, what AU did Nightmare attack this time?”

Dream tilted his head, watching his friend take a sip, “AfterTale. Why do you- BLUE!”

Blue’s tea spewed out between his teeth in shock, and Dream jumped up to avoid the spray.

Blue quickly jumped up himself to grab a rag from the kitchen, cleaning his face off while quickly making his way back to wipe down the table.

“I am so sorry Dream! Did I get any on you?” He asked, checking his friend’s clothing.

Dream quickly shook his head, “No, I got out of the way in time. But why did you do that?”

“Because your brother attacked an AfterTale! Good thing it wasn’t the first, or Nightmare might be in trouble.” 

Blue looked up at his friend when he didn’t say anything, just to see Dream staring at him quietly.

“Don’t tell me it was the first.” He asked, to which Blue got no response.

“Dream, I’m serious; tell me it wasn’t the first!” Blue demanded, dropping the now damp rag onto the table top.

Dream fiddled with his gloves, “And if it was? What kind of trouble is my brother in?”

Blue swallowed and whispered, “Reaper is going to kill him.”

Dream paled rapidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream: My brother isn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with Death, right?  
> Dream: Right?  
> Blue:  
> Dream: *horrified whisper* What has my brother become?


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ink levels of maniacal laughter*

Nightmare rolled out of the bone pile the minute he registered where they landed, scanning the room for probably the only one who would get them out of the mess he’d accidentally gotten his boys into.

88 stood closest, gesturing emphatically at his team with mild upset to a slightly sympathetic Ink, who patted the taller skeletons arm with every miserable “but why?” he uttered. Error stood only a few feet away, closer to the recliner in the corner of the room with arms crossed and a brow bone raised. There was no sign of the little Papyrus, and that relieved Nightmare a bit.

“Error!” He cried, though with the way his voice sounded it might as well have been a demand (the goop really gets in the way sometimes), “Your still here, that’s good; I need your assistance!”

“Your-r-r all home early,” Error noted, squinting between his friend and the groaning bone pile, “You’re not due back for two more days. Did something happen? Dream catch you in the-“

“We are not speaking of that incident, and yes something happened!” The Demigod quickly interrupted, continuing when it looked like he had the glitches undivided attention, “I went to spread misery as per norm in an AU, and now for some reason Death the Reaper is after us!”

Everyone froze. 88 shut his mouth with a click, Ink stared at Nightmare like a new AU he didn’t understand, and Error...

The room was filled with the too loud sound of a fax machine freaking out and then a computer quickly shutting down. A loading bar quickly popped up above the glitches head.

1%

Nightmare cursed to himself and saw 88 flinch in the corner of his socket, staring at Error with concern; he took a brief moment to wonder if this was the first time the Sans had seen Error crash.

“Damn it Error, of all the times!” He muttered. 

88 shot him a look Nightmare wasn’t familiar with, “Could someone tell me what the hell just happened?”

5%

Ink licked a bit of paint from the blue vial. 

“Error tends to crash when he gets overwhelmed or feels something strongly too quickly,” the Creator explained, eye lights a blue diamond and purple spiral, “Kind of like how I throw up when I get the same way.”

88 shot him a disbelieving look, “What- No.” he quickly cut Ink off, knowing that the other was about to explain again, “Just no. I got the gist of it, and for once I think we’ve got something bigger to worry about then y’all’s coping mechanisms.”

10%

Nightmare straightened up his posture when 88 turned to him, feeling an odd need to dust himself down under that serious stare. Beside him, his boys finally managed to free themselves from the pile up and were trying their best to unruffle their own clothes.

“Who’s Death the Reaper?” 88 demanded, “And why the HELL would you piss someone off with a name like that? Better yet, is he following you?”

Nightmare found himself a bit speechless and... endeared? No one had dared to take that tone with him in decades...

15%

He snapped himself out of it, “Just Reaper; he’s an ‘angel of death’ from Reapertale who takes the souls of the departed to his realm. I am not sure why, but the AU I was attacking must have been important to him for Reaper to get involved beyond the obvious reasons. I’m not sure if he’s following us, but I don’t want to risk it until I know for sure.”

“You think Error can keep him at bay, why?” The taller Sans asked.

“Error can’t die. Nor can Ink, but Error is the one I trust to defend us if needed.” This was starting to feel like a report.

20%

His boys, having fixed themselves up, were shuffling nervously in place. They had been listening too, even if they hadn’t commented.

Ink watched passively, but the grip he had on the giant brush strapped to his back told another story.

88 cursed under his breath.

25%

“So what you’re telling me is that the one person who’d watch your back is currently Rebooting like an old school computer and there’s a deadly anomaly potentially heading our way, HUNTING YOU DOWN, in a world that may not be able to handle the strain of an unstoppable force like DEATH.”

If Nightmare could sweat, he would have; his subordinates definitely were.

Ink stepped forward.

30%

“I don’t mind helping out.” The Creator smiled leisurely, as if they were talking about fixing a wall instead, “I really like this place, so I’m not just going to let it fall apart.”

Nightmare growled, “But you won’t protect the people in it. We’re just toys to you.”

That earned the Creator a sharp side eye from 88, but he didn’t notice.

35%

“Well, yes, but it won’t matter! The human can just Reset if it gets too bad!” Ink happily informed.

Nightmare noticed something odd from 88, and started watching the Sans more closely.

“Ink,” 88 coldly spoke, “Do you really think an unstable, unfinished world has a way to Reset, let alone handle the stress of such a thing without some lasting damage?”

40%

“Oh. That might be a problem then.” The Creator replied, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

It was times like this that Nightmare wondered how his brother could possibly put up with such blatant disregard for other people’s lives. 

Don’t get him wrong, he was the same way, but Dream was all about saving everyone. The Creator’s current attitude was exactly what Dream fought against.

45%

Still, Nightmare kept his eye light trained on 88. The other’s magic was acting off, and the usual calm and sleepy emotions the Guardian of Negativity was used to feeling from the other were completely mute.

“How long do you think it’ll take Reaper to find you?” 88 asked, unflinchingly meeting Nightmare’s stare.

How strange...

50%

“That depends entirely on how good he is at tracking through the Multiverse,” he answered back, slightly distracted, “Could be an hour, could be days; it could even already be too late to act.”

88 hissed, something he probably picked up from Error. Speaking of...

Nightmare glanced over to his immobile friend, spotting the half filled blue bar above the Destroyer’s head.

55%

88 went into deep thought, muttering to themselves.

Say this Reaper showed up right here, right now; what is my biggest concern? He thought. Papyrus; is he safe here? No. Do I move him or do I move us?

It would be better to find open terrain. If I remember correctly, Reaper Sans was said to be able to kill with a touch; It would be better to fight out of close quarters against an ability like that.

60%

It would reduce the risk to Papyrus (and my home) greatly. But how would we get Error out there, wherever we decided to go? 

88 grimaced, the answer obvious. Maybe they could just leave him behind? His friend was bound to “wake up” eventually.

No, Error would be pissed if he woke up after hearing literal death was coming for them.

65%

While he thought out the problem, Nightmare split his attention between watching 88 with fascination and trying to keep his boys from doing something stupid. 

It was slightly difficult, as Ink’s nonchalant attitude had set Cross off.

“I knew it! I knew you were a fraud! Guardian my ass!”

70%

Dust and Killer held the younger skeleton back, arms wrapped tight around Cross’s flailing arms.

Ink’s eye lights switched to duo colored question-marks, “But I am a guardian! You can’t save people if their world is destroyed though. Where would they go?”

Horror frowned, holding Cross back by his waist, “Literally anywhere else. Isn’t that what that one Frisk does?”

75%

Nightmare grimaced along with Ink, “That would take a large amount of magic to perform; something one can’t afford to do if the world is falling apart around you. At most, you’d get a handful of people out before getting stuck yourself.”

The Creator stared at him in surprise, “Huh, I didn’t expect you to understand. I don’t know how I should feel about this.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” He muttered.

80%

“Alright!” 88 cut in, interrupting a rather creative tirade from Cross, “Shout if you’ve got a better idea, but I think we need to move. Waterfall or the clearing by my station, choose.”

“The clearing.” Nightmare called out quickly, stopping the unnecessary questions he could feel the others wanted to ask as he caught on to the taller Sans’ plan.

“Okay, can you make a portal there? If Reaper is tracking you, then this might help redirect him.” Nightmare nodded.

85%

“Ink, can you make a gurney or something? We need to move Error.” 88 asked, turning to the walking rainbow.

Said rainbow nodded with determination, giant brush out and swirling with paint.

“What about us?” Killer asked around a flailing hand. (“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I’m not done with you, Ink!”)

90%

“Help me get- oh.” 88 blinked, realizing just how far the bar over Error’s head had gotten when they were plotting, “Hey Ink; forget the gurney! We’ll just push him in!” 

Ink pouted down at the just finished (and rather stylish if he did say so himself) bit of medical equipment.

93%

Nightmare frowned, “Is that wise?”

“Nope, but we can’t afford him possibly crashing again if-“ 88 cut himself off, a horrible pain flaring up under his ribs. 

96%

“Gck!” He choked, falling onto his knees and clutching the fabric of his shirt. It felt like someone just stabbed a knitting needle through his soul!

“Brother!” Ink called with alarm, quickly making his way over to the collapsed skeleton. The other’s watched in trepidation, Nightmare even taking a step over as if to help.

99%

Just then a ripple of strong, angry magic swept through the area. Nightmare recognized it as the same kind of feeling from AfterTale.

100%

WELCOME BACK, ERROR: DESTROYER OF WORLDS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/IdoD2147Fik


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know how to write fighting! Why do I keep making them fight?! 
> 
> Maybe I should put “Author doesn’t know how to write fight sequences and so most of it will be assumed or off screen,” as a tag. Something to think about I guess.

Death the Reaper was after Nightmare.

Death the Reaper.

Reaper.

AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED. PLEASE WAIT WHILE PROGRAM RESTARTS.

REBOOT IN PROGRESS.

“...what the hell happened?”

“...Hunting you down...”

REBOOT IN PROGRESS..

“...might help redirect him.”

“...just push him in!”

REBOOT IN PROGRESS...

“Nope, but we can’t afford...”

“Gck!”

REBOOT COMPLETE.

WELCOME BACK, ERROR: DESTROYER OF WORLDS.

Error blinked, the world coming back to him suddenly like the turning on of a TV.

“What the hell is going on!” He shouted, taking in the panicked running/fighting and shouts over the softer pained keening of someone hunched over on the floor.

(“What do we do? What do we do?!”  
“Would you all just stop for a second-“  
“Well, this is the end. It’s been nice knowing you guys.”  
“AAAAAAAAAAAAA-“)

It was hard to tell who it was from the angle he was at, what with Nightmare kneeling beside them with tendrils hovering around their back (“Come on, you have to get up.”) and Ink in front of them doing stars knew what (“Brother, please; tell us what hurts!”).

“Well? Is anyone going to answer me?!” Error demanded. 

Dust shortcutted beside him, apparently happy to talk to someone with sense, “Do you remember what we said earlier before you rebooted?”

Error flinched away from the sudden presence but quickly moved past it, trying to think.

Nightmare’s group falling from a portal.

Asking why they were back so soon.

Being told they were being followed by-

“-Reaper!”

Dust nodded, “Good, you remember. Long story short, Reaper found us and 88 is having a bad time.”

“Do we have a plan?” Error demanded, even as a part of him wanted to shove Ink and Nightmare away and kidnap 88 to the anti-void; Plan B then.

“Your friend over there wanted us to go over to his sentry station and confront Reaper there.” The dust covered Sans informed.

Error nodded, not seeing any reason to act against his friend’s idea. He spotted a dark rimmed portal over to the side.

“Nightmare, does that portal lead to 88’s station?” He called, already walking over to inspect it.

Nightmare turned, as if just remembering it was still there.

“Yes. Can you get everyone through?”

Error decided to do one better. He poked his head through to check the area for Reaper first, and seeing no sign of Death incarnate turned right around an set his strings on the (standing) group of skeletons; he threw the screaming four into the portal without a second thought.

Ah, blissful silence...

Back to work.

“You two go on ahead,” Error ordered the kneeling skeletons, “I’ll get 88.”

Oddly enough, both hesitated; though Nightmare quickly corrected himself by nodding and walking through the portal.

Ink still sat though.

“Go on!” He demanded, “I’ve got him.”

Ink glanced between him and 88, “But-“

Well, no one said Error was very patient; especially not where Ink is involved.

So he tied Ink up as well (“Ack! Error, wha-!”) and tossed him through the portal too (“ERROOOO-“).

The portal closed behind the Creator. Now all that was left was Error’s friend.

“88,” he called, quickly kneeling in front of his sweating friend, “Hey, can you hear me?”

88 nodded, a rough shiver shaking his entire body.

“Okay, that’s good,” Error breathed, offering out a glitching hand, “Can you get up?”

Shaky eye lights glanced at the tricolored hand, then up to his face. Error waited as patiently as he could.

“...No...h-hurts...” his friend finally managed to force out, eye lights fuzzing more as he started to tear up.

“Hey, no! That’s okay-ay-ay! Don’t cry!” Error frantically reassured, “I can just pick you up!”

If 88 starts crying, Error might actually crash again; he was already under a lot of stress without the waterworks.

“...hurt-t...too?” 

Error shook his head, deciding to go ahead and scoop the other up gently, ignoring the sensation of needles in his arms. It was awkward since the other was just a bit longer limbed, but Error made it work.

“Just worry about yourself right now. I can deal with a little discomfort.” He reassured. 

88 nodded and curled up tightly against him through what he could only assume was another wave of pain. Error made a mental note to get his friend checked out as soon as possible.

Error stood up- and immediately saw a problem. 

No portal, no free hands. Shit.

Carefully he shifted his weight onto one foot and, knowing that this was probably the most ridiculous thing he has ever done, swiped out his free foot into the air; cutting a portal into the space in front of him.

He vowed to tell no one.

Quickly Error walked through the portal and straight into chaos. Apparently Reaper found his friends.

Error quickly shortcutted to the edge of the clearing and sat his cargo down.

“Don’t move.” He ordered, before throwing himself into the fray.  
——

88 could honestly say that this was the worst pain he had ever felt in his lives-

A cloaked figure with a giant fucking scythe dodged waves of bone attacks, almost cutting into a spooked looking Nightmare before strings pulled the goopy skeleton back to their owner. 

-and was gradually getting worse the longer the fight dragged on. Especially when the person he could only assume was Reaper would miss and cut into the ground.

The knitting needle in his soul never let up, instead digging in harder and twisting into different directions.

He’d be screaming if he could find his voice. Small mercies, he supposed; wouldn’t want to distract the boys right now.

And then Ink was in front of him, crouched down.

“Brother! Can you hear me?” He asked.

Why does everyone keep asking that? 88 wondered, nodding anyway. It’s not like I’m suddenly deaf now.

“That deal we made, your magic is enforcing it somehow right?” Ink pressed, “I’d like to make a new deal. Same stuff, but the ability to defend myself and other’s against threats; Deal?”

88 finally looked up, meeting the Creator’s ever changing eye lights. For a second the pain no longer bothered him, nor the nagging frustration and terror he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling under it.

88 offered out his hand, and when Ink swiftly took it he nodded.

“Deal.”

The Creator turned and launched himself at Reaper, broadly flinging his namesake at the angel of death with (in his humble opinion) a creepy ass smile.

That’s the last thing 88 saw before the pain resurged through his soul with a vengeance; he passed out pretty quickly after that.

Small mercies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: Imma kill all of you!  
> Error: no u  
> Ink: *puts down Uno Reverse and Draw 25 Cards*  
> 88: Can we stop? All this fighting is tearing me apart.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys would be so kind to rate the fight scene, that would be great. Please tell me if there’s something I need to work on.

Nightmare hissed in audible frustration as he dodged yet another swing of Reaper’s scythe, unable to defend himself without risking his limbs- or worse, his life.

The Guardian never realized how hard it was not to be able to fight back until he didn’t have the option anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Reaper taunted, dodging another row of bones that flew at him (Dust’s handiwork), “I thought you liked dancing with death? Am I too much for you?”

Nightmare sneered, trying to put space between them, “Not when he’s got two left feet; I’d rather waltz with the Creator.”

Nightmare was no fool. He knew when he was beat and when to retreat, and now was a good time to get out of the way; but Reaper was dead set on getting at him, and Nightmare couldn’t risk his attention shifting to his subordinates out of frustration.

Trading insults seemed to keep the other’s ire trained on him, so he did his best to pick the most insulting things he could think of while Killer and Dust threw projectiles.

(Horror and Cross really couldn’t do much here besides using Blue magic on Reaper to slow him down; not without risking their own hides by getting too close.)

Though, he may be doing his job a bit too well. Reaper seemed even more determined to kill him now than when he first showed up. 

Where is that damn glitching fool when you need him?! Nightmare cursed to himself, dodging under another swing meant to decapitate.

“Would you just stay still? This is starting to drag into my free time.” Reaper huffed in frustration.

“You could just leave.” Nightmare offered. Ugh, pacifism- but if it kept them alive, he’ll do it.

“Sorry, but you attacked something that belongs to me. I can’t just let that go without punishment.” Another swipe, this time from above.

“L-L-Last I checked,” Reaper’s downward swing was halted midway through, “AfterTale was owned by AfterTale Sans, not-t-t you.”

Reaper found himself tangled in blue strings, pulling him back from his target.

“Took you long enough!” Nightmare called out, quickly shortcutting away.

“Shut up! Just be happy I’m helping at all!” Error growled.

He noticed Nightmare’s group quickly backing up towards their leader and the trees around them. Good, less distractions.

“ERROR! CAN YOU UNTIE ME NOW?” Ink cried from beside his brother’s post. Nevermind, the biggest distraction was still around.

“Ugh, might as well.” Error sighed, reluctantly setting his counterpart free. Ink took off to the curled up 88.

Nightmare followed the paint freak’s path with his eye lights before dragging his group over to 88 as well. Stars knew why.

“I’m surprised at you, Destroyer of Worlds.” Reaper called over his shoulder awkwardly, “Helping glitches? Interfering with another Gods business? That’s very unlike you.”

“First o-o-off, you’re interfering with my business,” Error tightened his strings, “Second, since when does the God of Death hunt people down who aren’t on the list? I can’t imagine Life will be very happy about that.”

Reaper twitched and glowered, “She’ll understand after I-“ he grunted, somehow maneuvering the blade of his scythe around and swinging it behind himself, cutting Error’s strings, “-EXPLAIN.”

“Shit!” Error hissed, jumping away as the god speedily levitated towards him. Ink chose that moment to fling his namesake at Reaper, throwing him off corse.

The God, unfortunately, dodged it. Damn it!

“I-I-Ink! Can’t you atleast aim straight!” Error complained loudly. The Creator just kept flinging more ink at the intruder.

“DON’T JUST IGNORE-ORE-ORE ME YOU DAMN S-S-SQUID!” Error cried angrily, throwing hundreds of threads into the air. One of them would have to connect to the death god, and then he’d rip that damn overgrown blade from the other’s severed hands if he has too!

Reaper laughed, floating by the strings with little care; even going as far as to twirl around with the hilt of his scythe in hand, cutting the strings closest to him and cutting inky bone attacks away as well.

“AAAAAAA!” Error screamed, frustration at an all time high, “WHY WON’T YOU JUST STAY STILL!”

Ink shortcutted to his side, eye lights a piercing red crosshair and orange hexagon in his sockets. He kept them trained firmly on a seemingly patiently waiting Reaper.

“Maybe we should work together, Error. He can’t cut my ink, so if you distract him I can immobilize him from behind or something.” Ink offered.

Error sneered, offended at the mere idea, but quietly admitted to himself that there were other things more important than playing cat and mouse with a God that doesn’t even recognize him.

“Fine, sure.” He said. Ink shortcutted away, going who knows where to wait.

“Come on! Let’s get this over with so I can get back to killing that slimy pest!” Reaper whined petulantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, AM I BORING YOU?!” Error raged.

“Just a bit!” Reaper sang back, dodging and cutting through bright red bone attacks.

Oh-ho-ho! It was on!!

“WELL YOU CAN TAKE YOUR STUPID FACE AND- AND-“ Error swore he heard a giggle, “Are- ARE YOU LAUGHING A-A-AT ME?!”

“Can’t help it, sorry, go on! I swear I’m listening now.” Reaper assured, boney hand waving in a “go on,” gesture.

Error’s screech could have broken windows, and was almost louder than the BWOOSH-BOOM of his Blaster’s laser fire.

“I WILL END YOU!” Error shrieked, “DO YOU HEAR ME YOU CLOAK WEARING DUMB SKELEGOD?!”

On the other side of the clearing- surrounded by broken and whole strings, abandoned bone attacks, and puddles of ink- Reaper felt his hold on his weapon slacken, Error’s words ringing hauntingly familiar in the paling god’s skull.

For a second, another angry skeleton took Error’s place; full of indignation and determination.

“Geno...?” He whispered.

The puddles of ink struck at that moment, constricting tightly around the god’s bones and forcing him off balance. Reaper fell into the snow face first.

“Yay!” Ink cried from the safety of a tree branch higher up, “LOOK ERROR! I CAUGHT HIM!”

Error huffed, rage quickly draining away now that the threat was down, “Yes, I can s-s-see that!”

Error threw a few strings around the bound skeleton, lifting him up and towards the emotionally exhausted glitch. He tried to grab the scythe as well, but it was already gone.

He resisted the urge to kick the limp god in the face.

Ink was quickly bounding his way over to the group of skeletons, eye lights dead set on his unconscious ‘brother,’ who was surprisingly being held up behind Nightmare’s back by his tentacles.

Error would have to have words with the guardian later, but for now he just made his way over to the group of tired and relieved skeletons; dragging a very confused Reaper behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Error: YOU STUPID SKELETON   
> Reaper:  
> Reaper: baby?  
> Error: oh *#@$&


	28. Filler 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have this while I struggle with the actual chapter.

It was dinner time in the skeleton household. Food was being eaten, skeletons were sitting down and behaving, and Nightmare was enjoying the chaotic home atmosphere.

So of course something had to make it better.

“Where do babies come from?” Papyrus suddenly asked his brother, who sat beside him at the table taking a sip of water.

Unsurprisingly, 88 choked and started coughing up a lung he didn’t have. The rest of the table wasn’t much better.

Dust dropped his fork, Killer and Cross froze in their knife war (which was like a food war but with knives- Horror had gotten upset when they kept wasting food), and Horror stopped eating to stare nervously at the mini brother. 

Nightmare tried to pretend he wasn’t there, along with Error who looked like he wanted to portal out and never return. (They sat beside each other, trusting the other not to touch/kill him while they ate.)

Ink just kept smiling and munching on.

88 finally cleared his airways enough to turn to his brother.

“W-why do you ask, Papyrus?” He stuttered, face a bit yellow.

“We went over the different kinds of monsters in class today,” the little bones explained, “And the teacher said that skeleton monsters are actually rare! But that can’t be right, because there’s so many of us now.”

He tilted his skull, “But then I thought about how we were the only two in the entire underground for a long time, and that you knew me when I was a little babybones, and I thought ‘I wonder where brother got me?’ And that’s why I asked!”

88 went to answer (probably something about a stork) when he realized he didn’t know the answer either.

88 turned to Error and Nightmare, “Hey, where do babies come from?”

Error actually did leave then, leaving Nightmare to stare at the yellow skeleton with slight terror.

The other four stared at 88 as well in various stages of disbelief.

“Pffft! That’s easy!” Ink boasted, having taken a quick sip of yellow paint, “They’re conceived during sex!”

“What’s sex?” Papyrus wondered.

“Skeletons can have sex?” 88 mused.

Nightmare quickly lashed out and wrapped Ink’s mouth with a tentacle, “Not today, Creator.”

Ink’s protests were muffled under the tendril. The Voices laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ink: *about to tell all about reproduction*  
> Nightmare: for once, we will spare another’s innocence.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to start tallying up the chapters I’m confident in and the ones I’m not. It would be interesting to see, I think.

Papyrus giggled to himself, laying on his floor doodling a half decent picture and listening to the chaos below him.

“Oooh, Error and Ink are in trouble!” He sang to himself, hearing a loud crash.

Papyrus frowned and tilted his head over to the door when he heard more voices join in with the chaos. Did Nightmare and his brothers come back? It sounded like them. Didn’t they say they were going to be gone awhile?

Hmm, suspicious; but not enough to make him leave his room. Sans said he’d tell him when to come down, and Papyrus knew better than to do it too early.

The little bones shivered, remembering the last time he dared. So many chores, so many...

It got quiet in the living room.

Papyrus actually looked up then, surprised. 

“Brother?” He called. 

No response. Papyrus pushed himself up and sat on his heels.

“Sans!” He called.

Did they leave without telling him?

The little bones walked over to his door and nervously opened it just a crack; just enough to look out, so his brother wouldn’t spot him peeking if he was still out there.

“Sans!” He dragged out, “Brother?”

Finally, gathering all his bravery, Papyrus stuck his head out the door and looked around.

No one in sight.

Papyrus felt himself grin; time to find that chocolate stash!  
——

He found himself in a very familiar scene; snow and trees as far as the eye could see, snow fall so heavy seeing even a few feet ahead was near impossible, and the ever gripping mounds of frozen water holding his feet like it wanted to eat him.

Very Deja Vu.

Sans looked around, only somewhat aware of himself this time around.

“Hello?” He called, though the snow muffled it even to his hearing, “Is someone there?”

He didn’t really expect anyone to answer back, but his dream self seemed to think it was worth a shot. Oh well, onto deeper snows.

“Hello!” Suddenly echoed loudly back, a smaller figure of a golden clothed skeleton popping up in front of him.

“ACK!” Sans jumped and fell over, the snows grip ever so tight.

“Oh! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The skeleton frowned, offering out a hand to him. Sans wasn’t sure if that was for a handshake or to help him up, but before he could do either his barely aware self decided the little golden skeleton deserved a bit of karma; so he took the hand and pulled them off their feet.

“It’s nice to meet y-OUUUAAA!” And then they landed face first in the snow beside him.

Oh, that was glorious! Good job me!

“Pffft, Hahaha! Payback for scaring me, ya asshole!” Sans giggled out. The little skeleton pushed themselves up onto their gloved hands and knees, staring into the face shaped snow like had the answers to life itself.

It only made Sans giggle harder.

“Man, y-your much more entertaining than Nightmare!” He managed to get out.

The little golden skeleton quickly sat up, “You’ve seen my brother?!”

Sans quirked a bone brow, “Yes? If your brother likes to call himself Nightmare and drips goop everywhere like a sewer creature.”

“Yes! That’s him!” Dream gasped out, still sitting in the snow with him, “So he WAS here!”

“I suppose that makes you Dream then?” Sans asked. He already knew, but confirmation would make this easier in the long run.

“Huh? Oh, yes! Sorry, I haven’t gotten the chance to introduce myself- mostlybecauseyoupulledmedownbeforeIcouldfinish.” Dream muttered under his breath. Sans still heard it though.

Oh, feisty~!

He offered out a hand, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Dream. What brings you to my private thoughts?”

Dream took the hand when offered, but shrunk into himself a bit at the last part.

“Sorry, I heard a few days ago that my brother had gotten himself into some trouble, so I’ve been hopping into anyone’s dreams who felt like they’d been in contact with him recently.” He said contritely.

The handshake was over, and Sans took his hand back, “Okay, so what made you think I met your brother?”

Dream pointed at a tree, and when Sans followed his finger the falling snow parted for a better view.

The tree was dripping goop instead of snow.

“Now that’s just weird,” He huffed, “kind of gross too. Does your brother always leave his goop behind?”

“Well, yes. But he must have been here awhile for that much to be accumulated.” Dream pondered, not seeing the grimace on the others face and the mouthed ‘accumulated?’

“Right...” Sans muttered, “Hey, wait a second, don’t you hate your brother or something?”

“Wha- No! Of course not!” Dream snapped out of his pondering, “I love my brother!”

“But you two are always fighting, right?” Sans wondered, watching the other carefully. What can he say? Sans was a nosy Nancy; plus, he felt like the other was overdue this conversation.

Dream frowned and looked down at his hands, “I just want him to be my brother again.”

“Ohhh, so you’re one of those people.” Sans sighed, oddly disappointed in the Guardian.

“Wh-what does that mean?” The golden boy stuttered out, yellow eye lights small with confusion.

“Do you ever think that, deep down, Nightmare likes who he is now? That maybe the only one keeping your brother away from you is you?” Sans asked back, flopping onto his back and sending snow flying a bit.

Dream flinched away from the snow, and started fidgeting with his gloves, “I- I don’t understand.” 

Sans didn’t believe him. That face screamed denial.

“Your brother was really different before the goopy one, I assume?” Dream nodded, “And became like this as a result of something terrible?” Another nod, “So tell me, is the terrible thing over? If he were to come back to you, would the bad still be waiting for him?”

Dream didn’t look sure.

“Nightmare seems like the kind of person who can’t stand being powerless or under another’s Mercy-“ if the amount of deals and blackmail is any indication, “-and you want him to go back to it; to be your helpless brother all over again- and worse, he knows it?” The Sans shook his skull, “If I were him, the resentment would be into the cave walls.”

Dream shrunk into himself and started tearing up, “But this version of my brother is so...mean, and hateful, and- and murderous!”

“He didn’t hurt me.” Sans threw back, “Nor has he hurt my brother, or our shared friend, or his little pack of mismatched unloved children.”

He clarified when Dream shot him a startled look, “Cross, Dust, Killer, and Horror.”

“Oh.” Dream suddenly looked uncomfortable, “But I thought he was just using them?”

“Oh, undoubtedly!” Sans nodded, “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take care of them, or love them in his own special way. All relationships are like that.”

“Not all of them!” The little skeleton protested.

Sans turned onto his side, head rested in a hand, “You want your brother back, but if you didn’t need him for something, you wouldn’t be trying so hard- maybe even have already given up,” he held up his free hand before the other could interrupt, “It’s not a bad thing. Everyone uses everyone; but the best relationships are the ones where both give and take. For yours to have failed means either an outside force pulled you apart, or one of you was getting more out of the deal than the other; and I can guess who it was.”

Dream seemed to falter, somewhat seeing the other’s point; or, atleast, Sans hoped so.

“But then, what do I do? I can’t let him spread negativity everywhere.” 

Hmm, that was a problem, but Sans thought the answer was sort of obvious.

“How’s the balance between you two right now? Are you evenly matched?”

“Actually, yes.” 

“Then keep it that way. Don’t interfere unless he does.” Sans sighed, “And then talk to him about a compromise that’s fair to you both.”

Dream frowned, “It can’t be that easy.”

“It is, it’s just harder to do than say,” Sans sat up with a grunt, “And trust me when I say you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. A compromise like that is going to need trust, and you don’t have it.”

Dream sighed, hands clenched tightly together, “I know.”

Sans watched the other for a second, then sighed, “Look, if you want a place to talk peacefully-“ Ugh, why was he doing this to himself! “-then come to my world. Not right now, but in a few days time. We’re in a bit of a pickle right now, but it should be cleared up by then; and then you can beg your brother’s forgiveness in the safety of my home.”

The little golden guardian stared at him for a moment before beaming straight at him, eye lights big and fuzzy at the edges.

Sans felt his soul jump.

“Thank you so much! You have no idea what this means to me!” Dream cried, throwing himself into Sans arms for a hug.

The taller skeleton froze, feeling his skull warm up with his magic. 

“N-no problem!” He squeaked out, patting the guardian’s shoulders with a hand robotically.

He cleared his nonexistent throat, “J-just remember, my AU is number 88 of-“  
——

Sans woke up suddenly, groggy and sore. Around him the murmur of voices droned on. For a second he couldn’t understand what was going on; Sans felt like he was floating away without a care in the world- 

“...interested in him, t-t-then do it the right way.”

“Right way?”

Fabric rustled, “Flowers, c-c-candy, maybe take him out.”

“Blue told me once that gifts are great ways to create bonds!”

“Gifts.”

“Yup! It can be anything too, as long as it’s something you think he’d like!”

“The blood and dust of his enemies then.”

“Does he ev-ev-even have enemies?”

-until he wasn’t.

Suddenly he was (quite literally) in a world of pain; his spine ached, his joints felt stiff, and the act of breathing shifted his ribs in a way that was both a relief and another source of pain on the long list Sans was slowly tallying up in his head.

Sans could hear his breathing stutter, alerting the room around him.

Something jostled the thing he was laying on, inspiring hisses from the voices.

“Squi-i-id, what the hell do you think your doing?”

“Get down before you hurt him.” 

“Geez, you guys worry too much!” An excitable voice loudly proclaimed above him.

Sans mentally huffed while grumpily opening his eye sockets, something that turned out to be much harder than it should have been; and there was something in front of him, really close to his face; something big and white and-

“Ink?” Sans asked, eye lights extinguishing as quickly as they came on, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Ink beamed down at him, “Waiting for you to wake up! You’ve been out for a while!”

“Okay,” Sans drawled out slowly, “But why are you on top of me?”

“Waiting! Why, is it weird?” The Creator wondered, eye lights forming a green question mark and yellow triangle.

“...just a bit.” 

Sans heard a scoff to his right and glanced over, sockets still dark.

Error stood firmly beside a door with his arms crossed, Nightmare rolling his visible eye light from a chair in the corner.

No, wait- Sans blinked, vision clearing a bit more -This is my room, and Nightmare’s sitting on his weird goopy tentacle things.

Wait, wasn’t his door on the first floor?

Sans blinked some more, trying to wake himself up a bit more. If this is his room, than the thing he’s laying on must be his bed. A bed that Sans is trapped in with his self proclaimed brother pinning him down.

While surrounded by people.

With the mystery door closed.

Oh hell no.

Sans gritted his teeth, “Hey Ink, could you back up a bit, or better yet, get off?”

Ink plopped down fully onto him, arms wrapping around his shoulders with a whine, legs flailing behind him, “But I don’t wanna!”

This would be adorable if he actually trusted all the people in the room with him. As it was, Sans was shooting pleading glances at Error.

Error, who was too busy scowling at a far wall to notice; so Sans reluctantly shifted his attention to the only other skeleton in the room he mildly trusted.

Nightmare just smirked.

Oh, I see how it is! Just wait until I get my hands on you, you toothpick spined, hollow boned, empty headed numbsku-!

“Right, okay,” Sans cut himself off, not wanting to work himself up when he was already feeling his soul wither and twist in his rib cage, “What if I told you there’s a story and a nice bar of chocolate in it for you?”

“Hey, wait a second-“ Error protested, but Ink cut in.

“Really?!” He asked, literal stars in his sockets.

“Yup. But you gotta get off me.” Sans sold it with a smile.

“Now hold on, that’s my-!“

“Yes!” The rainbow child cried, quickly sitting up and scrambling off him before accidentally falling off the edge of the bed. 

Sans sighed, the feeling of being trapped lessening significantly. He glared lightlessly at the other two, mentally planning all the ways to passive-aggressively make their life hell later.

“I’m okay!” Ink cried, jumping up and straightening himself out, “Now where is that story?”

Ink glanced around the room and Sans groaned, knowing that if he didn’t get up that second then Ink would probably pull everything out to find it himself; and he couldn’t risk that.

Sans sat up, grumbling and cursing to himself as he swung his legs out of the bed. They ached, especially in his knees, but it was bearable as far as movement went. He managed to push himself up and take a whole step forward before his knees buckled under him; the skeleton braced himself for a rough landing.

But none came.

Sans opened his sockets and glanced around, expecting Error’s strings to have caught him, but saw Nightmare’s tendrils of goop instead.

A tentacle was wrapped firmly around his waist, holding on tightly as it set Sans straight again. Once he was steady, the goop snapped back into the base of Nightmare’s spine.

Huh. Maybe Sans’ll only snark at him a little then.

“Thank you.” He murmured.

(No one could tell, but Nightmare was definitely pleased with the gratitude.)

Sans pointedly ignored the curious looks from the gods and made his way over to a pretty standard looking dresser.

(That’s because it was; Sans just liked to hide stuff under it.)

“Look away.” He demanded, staring them all down. The boys gave him strange looks, but did it.

Sans kept an eye socket on them while he pulled a box from under the dresser, covering it up with the sound of a drawer opening.

Maybe not the most creative or well hidden place, but most people wouldn’t check. Most people weren’t allowed in here to begin with.

Reluctantly, Sans tore his gaze away to search the box more thoroughly. He couldn’t give Ink the Happy Ending Attempts, but the only thing besides those were the ever personal venting one-shots and the occasional diary entry.

Oh no, wait! There was that story he’d made for Papyrus a while back! Where did he put it again?

“A-ha! Found you ya little bugger!” Sans muttered under his breath. There was a moment of hesitation (did he really want to give Ink a story? No, not really; but a deal’s a deal.) before glancing back around to the others. He made sure to open and close different drawers and quietly stuff the box back under the dresser- minus a few pages.

All in the name of privacy!

“Ugh!” He groaned, hearing some bones in his back pop as he stood up, “Stars I feel old. Here Ink, knock yourself out.”

Ink flipped around and whooped, taking the papers with a surprising amount of care before running out of the room.

(That almost made him feel better about the trade. Atleast Ink won’t destroy it by accident.)

“That is a strange, strange skeleton.” Sans sighed, going back to his most loved bit of furniture. 

Error raised a bone brow at him, “Are you just n-n-now realizing this? Because if you are, I need to re-evaluate my opinion of you.”

“That guy has been here for, what, Two days? And I still can’t tell if he’s a criminal mastermind or just very, very bored.” 88 complained, flopping back on the bed.

“Criminal mastermind?” Nightmare asked.

88 frowned at him, “You don’t see it?”

“I don’t either.” Error threw in. 88 huffed at them both, but it was tinged with concern and he didn’t elaborate, instead just rolled over onto his front and smooshed his face into the sheets.

“B-B-By the way, that stupid death god is in the living room right now. Figured you’d want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/_cYPQ3UM9sc
> 
> Papyrus is totally Steven in this equation, but can you guess who the other two are...?


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s take a look downstairs, shall we?

The stare off between Papyrus and Reaper was epic. They were two beings who had no need to blink and no eye lights, so it wasn’t obvious when the other looked away unless they moved their head.

So neither did; neither had for the past hour, one staring up from his seat on the floor and another staring down tied up to and hanging from the ceiling. Horror was starting to get nervous.

He wasn’t the only one. Dust kept glancing over as well, especially if Papyrus made even a twitch toward the god of death.

Cross and Killer were raiding the kitchen, having gotten hungry. Horror wasn’t really all that comfortable with going into 88’s kitchen without him, and refused to help, hoping 88 wouldn’t mind his friends actions.

Though he did hope Cross would nab him a little bit of something to eat- he was getting hungry too.

Dust sighed, “So am I the only one wondering why we didn’t just throw this guy into the void or something?”

His mismatched eye lights snapped over to Papyrus when he shifted in his crisscrossed position, but then relaxed when the kid just readjusted to sitting on his knees.

“He’s Death, Dust.” Horror replied, leaning back into the couch they were sharing, “I doubt anything can keep him down for long.”

“And you’d be right.” Reaper himself chimed in.

The two startled, and stared up at him, but when he didn’t elaborate they cautiously went back to their conversation.

“Okay, but we’ve got him tied up and hanging like a piñata. Couldn’t we have still chucked him into the void?”

Horror giggled, “You’re really going on with the void thing, huh?”

Dust grinned, “What can I say, I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat~” Death sang.

Dust squinted at the god, “But satisfaction brought it back.”

“Heh, is that how that goes?” Horror wondered, “No wonder those humans looked so confused.”

“Why, what have you been saying?” Dust asked, turning back to his friend.

“Oh, I’ve been saying-“ Horror cut himself off, glancing down and thinking, “What have I been saying?”

Dust shrugged, “Well, tell me when you remember, okay?”

Horror smiled at him and nodded.

“Cute, I ship it.”

Dust glared up at the piñata god, “Are you just going to comment on everything?”

He didn’t see Horror’s eye light go out or the blush that dusted his cheeks, too busy being a bit miffed at the commentary.

“Yup. Haven’t got anything better to do; I’m literally stuck here.” Reaper said, a hand wiggling from a gap in the Inky binds.

Papyrus titled his head, then frowned and jumped up, running to the kitchen. Reaper sighed.

“And now my game is over.” He groaned, “I’m so bored...”

Horror’s browbones raised, “Yer pretty whiny for a death god.”

“And you are remarkably uninteresting for a cannibal and mass murderer. Come on guys, atleast talk to me while you hold me hostage.” Reaper insulted and begged in the same breath.

Horror and Dust glanced at each other, completely done with the god’s attitude. They decided to ignore him.

“So what do you think is going on in there?” Horror thumbed at the kitchen.

Dust shrugged, “Beats me. They’ve been making such a racket, I’m surprised 88 hasn’t woken up from all the noise.”

Reaper sighed, wiggling and struggling in place just to do something. 

“Pretty weird how he collapsed when Death showed up.” Horror pointed out.

Reaper perked up, swinging slightly.

“Yup.” Dust crosses his arms and leaned into the couch arm, “Wonder why? Got any theories?”

Though the question was asked of Horror, Reaper took it upon himself to think of an answer. It was a curious coincidence, after all.

Papyrus returned, approaching Reaper with a steaming mug in hand.

Dust and Horror sat up, alert for any kind of movement from Reaper. 88 might actually kill them if his little bro died at the hands of Death because they weren’t paying attention.

Reaper watched the little bones curiously as Papyrus glared down at the cup.

Slowly and shakily, the cup was enveloped in a coating of blue and lifted into the air. The closer it got to Reaper, the more curious the death god became.

“T-there!” Papyrus forced out, strained from the effort, “Take a sip! It’s hot chocolate!”

To say Reaper was confused was an understatement, but he took a sip anyway when the cup tilted for him.

“Oh, hey, that’s pretty good kid.” 

Papyrus beamed tiredly, “Thank you! Brother makes it better though.”

Reaper took another sip, letting out a satisfied hum, “It’s no coffee-“

Horror and Dust tensed, both for different reasons.

“-but I’ll take another if your willing.”

The two sighed, relieved. Horror even smiled a bit.

88’s door busted open, startling everyone (except Cross and Killer, who were still doing stars knew what in the kitchen) and breaking Papyrus’ concentration on the mug. Papyrus jumped out of the way as the hot chocolate dropped like a rock and spilled on the carpet.

Ink ran out, pausing briefly to close the door behind him, giggling and clutching some papers to himself as he ran down the stairs and dived behind the couch.

Everyone stared, Dust and Horror being the most incredulous of the group.

Horror peered over the back of the couch, trying to see what the Creator was up to this time.

Ink was sitting crisscross with his back to to the couch, and Horror was able to briefly read, “Fluffy Bunny loved Blue Bunny with all his heart, but he didn’t know how to tell her-“

“Hey! Don’t you know it’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder?” Ink pouted, taking a lick of orange paint.

Horror raised his hands up in surrender and leaned away, out of Ink’s sight. Dust gave him a questioning look, but he just shook his head.

Reaper and Papyrus sighed, staring forlornly at the soggy brown stain in the carpet. Papyrus went to the laundry room to hunt for a towel, grumbling the whole way.

88’s bedroom door burst open again, banging against the wall loudly and lodging the door bob into the wall.

If a door could cry, this one would have. 

“DEATH THE REAPER!” The yellow skeleton shouted, eye sockets empty.

“Actually, it’s Death the Elder.” Reaper corrected, unaffected by the other’s tone even as Dust and Horror tried to pretend they didn’t exist.

He was the literal embodiment of Death; no random version of himself can cow him, nor would he let them try.

88 blinked, thrown off for a moment, “Oh. Sorry, everyone has been saying ‘Death the Reaper,’ so I thought that was your title.”

Now Reaper was thrown off, not expecting the one-eighty attitude, “No, it’s fine. Your not the first.”

They just sort of stared at each other for a moment while more skeletons filed into the room, wanting to know what the commotion was about. Papyrus returned with a towel.

“Oh! Brother, your awake!” Papyrus noted, beaming up at the elder skeleton, “Could you show me how to clean up spills from the carpet again?”

88 shortcutted down to stand beside his brother, joints aching at the thought of walking down so many steps.

“Sure bro, where’s the mess?” He asked, holding a hand out for the towel. Papyrus gave it to him and led 88 over to the scene of the crime.

88’s ever present smile strained a bit when he noticed how close it was to the death god.

“Alright broski,” 88 feigned nonchalance, “When you spill liquids on carpet, your best bet is to soak it up with a towel first, like this;-“

He folded the towel neatly into a tight square and dropped it on the mess, lifting a foot and stepping on it.

“-it gets thin and small spilled liquids out no problem, but thicker ones might take more work. And more time.”

88 lifted the towel, checking the stain. Whatever he saw made him sigh and turn the towel over, repeating the performance but putting his full weight onto it.

Reaper wasn’t sure what to make of this. By the looks of it, neither did anyone else; though Error nodded along with 88 when he showed the steps.

Reaper ended up staring at the glitch longer than he intended.

“Would you see if you can find that scrub brush? The one with the handle.” 88 asked Papyrus, who was watching studiously. The little bones nodded and took off back to the laundry room.

Still standing on the towel (which was slowly absorbing the much beloved liquid), 88 turned sharply to Reaper. 

“So, why’d you attack my friends?” 88 asked. He sounded calm, but everything about his face screamed, ‘I’ll murder you in your sleep.’ 

D-...Did he see Nightmare shiver? We’re those two a thing? 

“They were breaking something that be-“ he quickly corrected, seeing Error’s sockets squint in warning, “-I was protecting. I was upset.”

“So you were going to kill them? Seems a bit dramatic what with that world having a Human to turn back time and all.” The Sans pointed out not unkindly, but definitely with a sharper undercurrent.

Reaper’s smile was definitely not kind, however, “And what would you have me do? Smack them on the wrist and let them be off? News flash, that would still kill them. Plus, that world needs to be intact for-“

He cut himself off, realizing he was saying to much. Reaper glanced around, thankful for once that he didn’t have eye lights like the other skeletons in the room, and everyone seemed just as confused as before, but Error and the Sans in front of him looked like he’d just handed his life story over on a silver plate.

Papyrus returned, and 88 smiled down at him, “Yup, that’s the one! Thank you Paps.”

Nightmare’s gang huddled around the couch as 88 continued demonstrating how to clean a carpet to Papyrus, accidentally encircling Ink (who so far hadn’t even noticed there was anything going on around him, so engrossed into the story he was) as they murmured to each other.

Nightmare distantly admired 88’s kneeling form as he scrubbed the carpet clean, and Error stared between Reaper and Nightmare judgmentally, not sure who he wanted to scold more; the lover from another life, or the friend who was quickly falling into ‘Don’t Leave Alone With 88’ category.

Error huffed, thinking how just a few hours ago they had been gathered in the same spot listening to the paint bucket asking 88 questions. 

Actually that reminded him; Error looked out the window.

Nighttime had finally fallen in the underground. That meant that someone needed to grab dinner, before it was too late.

“Hey!” Error called to the room, “I’m g-g-going to grab some food, what do you all want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dust and Horror: *being cool bros*  
> Reaper: that’s cute, now kiss  
> Dust: wtf no we’re just friends  
> Horror: yeah...totally...  
> *In the kitchen*   
> Killer: think we’re making enough noise?  
> Cross: yeah dude let’s do this  
> *sicknasty make out session*


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Reaper may or may not be developing a minor case of Stockholm Syndrome and Error is distracted.

The next few days were sort of a blur to Sans. So much had happened with Nightmare’s unexpected return that he was sort of left reeling from it all.

Sans’ soul still hurt like hell though. He hadn’t told anyone else about it, especially not Error, but the way Reaper would watch him sometimes made Sans wonder if he could SEE the problem.

Speaking of Death the Elder; he still wasn’t allowed out of his binds. He’d wormed his way out of every sort of verbal contract he’d been offered- sometimes with outright refusal and sometimes with clever little wordplays and turnarounds- and no one trusted him to not cause trouble if he was free.

Sans didn’t want to say he was enjoying the challenge...but he was totally enjoying the challenge. So much so that he completely forgot to tell Nightmare his brother was probably on his way to see him even though he and Error always made sure to be in the room when Reaper was being interacted with.

Sans wasn’t all that sure how to feel about Reaper himself however. Their humor was sort of similar (even if Sans tried to hide it) and Reaper himself seemed to have shifted gears from ‘Murder the Goop Child’ to ‘Stare at the Glitch Boy.’

Sans hated it, especially when he caught Error’s thoughtful looks to the (newly dubbed) piñata god. He didn’t know what exactly Error was thinking, but he knew enough from his author days to know why Reaper was interested. 

He practically spelled it out for Sans on the first day. Protecting AfterTale? ‘Keeping it intact’ for something? The long, longing stares at his best friend when he thought no one was looking (or notice, since he didn’t have eye lights)?

Reaper was waiting for Genocide “Geno” Sans, who apparently had gone away somehow, and he thought Error might be him for some reason.

To say Sans burned with jealousy would be an overstatement. He wasn’t upset, he didn’t care at all; Error was barely doing more than glancing at the god, so why would Sans feel anything?

(Lies, lies, lies.)

Besides, Error had never even mentioned Reaper before! There’s a strong possibility that, even if he had been Geno in a past life, Error simply didn’t remember anything about the death god. Error would have told him otherwise, right?

Right?

That’s what Sans wondered as he laid there, staring at the ceiling in bed.

There is no way those two would ever get together, he denied, no freaking way. Hipster Death and The Destroyer of Worlds? Pfft, almost as impossible as me going home!

Sans’ mood plummeted even further, the long familiar home sickness rearing it’s ugly head and bringing tears to his eyes.

Mother always knew how to make him feel better, always had the best advice too; but now he had no idea what to do or how to make these horrible feelings go away (preferably before he accidentally acts on them) and there was no Mother in sight to guide him the right way.

There was no one who could help him figure himself out here, no one he trusted enough to expose himself. He thought he had Error, but...

“As if I’d ever be friends with anyone like you!” 

Sans sniffed, trying to blink the tears away. When that didn’t work he sat up and slowly got off the bed, trying not to make too much noise and wake up the whole house.

Finally free of the mattress, Sans considered what to do now. He couldn’t go downstairs without risking waking the boys up, and that took out a lot of options.

It was starting to get harder to hold his tears back.

Sans’ eye lights were drawn to his window and quietly he tiptoed to the glass, drawing the curtain aside to steal a look outside.

It was dark in the underground, snowing, and probably very cold; but it had never looked so appealing to him until this moment.

The familiar urge to leave, leave, leave, guided Sans to his dresser where he grabbed some thick clothes and threw them on over his night clothes. It was going to be cold, but he didn’t want to come back for awhile if at all possible.

Anywhere but his room would do.

Well dressed, exhaling a stuttered breath, Sans took a shortcut.  
——

Nightmare found 88 sitting on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the darkness below.

“Jumping would break our deal.” He called, leisurely strolling over.

88 shot him a glare, “Jumping is for people who aren’t terrified of falling.”

“Your pretty close to the edge, if that’s the case.” The goopy skeleton joined him, taking a seat at a few inches away.

88 turned back around, “I’m thinking. It’s easier to do it when I’ve got nothing to distract me.”

Part of Nightmare relaxed at that, feeling the truth from the other’s swirling emotions.

“Is that so. What are you thinking about?” He wondered, staring out into the abyss around them. 88 shrugged beside him.

“Reaper and Error, Home, the pain in my soul,” He muttered, “My mother.”

Nightmare shot the other an alarmed look, “Your soul hurts?”

“Heh, that’s the part that caught your attention?” 

“Soul injuries are not something to take lightly,” Nightmare scolded, “How long has it been bothering you?”

88 looked over to him, face becoming strangely blank. 

“88-“ he started, but the other cut him off.

“Why do you care?” The taller asked.

Nightmare frowned, “What do you mean?”

“What do you get out off all of this, besides an easy food source?” 88 asked, “Why’d you follow me out here, why do you hang around? It’s been weeks, but you’ve only left to soak up negativity once. Is there something I’m missing?”

“...maybe I like it here.” He settled on.

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you act around me,” The skeleton frowned, “Recently, every time I turn around, it’s like you’re always there.”

A tendril drew circles in the snow behind Nightmare’s back.

“It’s a small house.” He tried.

“I woke up that one day and you were waiting in my room.”

“So was Error and the Creator.”

“Yes, but Error is my best friend and Ink thinks we’re brothers. You haven’t got anything like that.”

The same tendril twitched and he faltered.

88 tilted his head, “Do you...want to be something like that?”

“...and if I do?” He hedged. 

“Why?” 88 wondered, face finally showing his confusion.

“You’re,” Nightmare tried to find a word, “Interesting. You treat my boys well, even when they get rowdy. You gave us the benefit of a doubt even though you knew the risks, maybe even expected it. You feed us, me, willingly.“

88 deadpanned, “Yes, and now my home is infested with squatters.”

Nightmare huffed a laugh, “That’s true.”

88 stared at him a moment before sighing, “So what kind of relationship do you want? I will warn you, I’ve already got too many brothers, and I’ve got more roommates than I’ve ever needed at this point.”

The tendril traced the circles it made.

“How about a Datemate?” Nightmare asked, staring into the darkness before them. It was a very nice view this time of year.

When no response came, and the silence dragged on, Nightmare risked a glance over to his companion.

88 was watching him, eye sockets wide and jaw slightly hanging. Nightmare could almost swear there was a yellow flush on his cheeks.

“You- you want to date me?” 88 breathed, seeing Nightmare’s glance.

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation; No backing out now.

“Are you sure?” 

Nightmare smirked, “I’m fairly sure.”

“I’m a mess.” 88 warned.

“I constantly ooze negativity.” He shot back.

“I forget things.”

“So does Horror.”

“There is a very high chance that I will never be comfortable with certain kinds of affection. Giving or receiving.”

“I won’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

88 looked around, unsure, “I, uh, won’t always be the easiest to be around.”

Nightmare smiled, amused, “I don’t expect you to be.”

88 opened his mouth, like he was going to argue more, but faltered.

Nightmare’s smile fell, “Don’t say yes unless you mean it.”

88 grimaced, “I want to, but- are you sure you want me? A-as your datemate? If your just trying to keep me as an ally, then you don’t have to go this far. We can just be friends.”

Nightmare couldn’t fault him for that assumption. That was how he and Error had started out as friends (even though it was mostly Error being bored and Nightmare needing someone able to help keep the Creator from beating he and his group into the ground). However, starting a relationship under false pretenses with someone who didn’t need coercion to cooperate with him was unnecessary and pointlessly cruel. Nightmare kept that kind of cruelty for his enemies.

But 88 wouldn’t know that, would he?

“I promise-“ 88 jolted, “-that this is not a ploy of any sort. I am asking you with the only ulterior motive being that I want to figure you out. Do you accept?”

That was definitely a blush on the taller skeletons face. Nightmare made a note to make 88 blush more.

He raised a bone brow, “Well?”

“Uh? I-I mean, yes!” Nightmare felt the other’s excitement and smiled, pleased.

“Good.” He nodded, “Now, want to explain why you haven’t told anyone your soul is hurting?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: *is sad*  
> 88: I have no one to talk to  
> NM: oh look, a conveniently placed person  
> NM: it would be a shame if you were to forget him  
> NM: ...actually, yes forgot me. And then spill your secrets into the void.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Nightmare realizes he and his datemate have more than one thing in common.

“You really aren’t going to let that one slide, are you?” 88 asked, amused.

“Now that we are-“ Nightmare grimaced, “-in a relationship? Not likely.”

88 grinned, “The relationship tags making you want to gag?”

He nodded, “Very much so, but back to the subject in question; your soul?”

88’s smile slowly fell as he looked into the goop guardian’s- his goop guardian?-eye light, and then he sighed and turned to face the other skeleton.

“I- okay, so, you know how I collapsed just as things got dicey, right?” He waited for Nightmare’s nod, “Right. And then suddenly you all had to worry about me as well as Reaper going to make you literal dust in the wind.”

“To be fair, Error had also crashed. You were not our sole burden in this incident.” Nightmare cut in, trying to reassure the other. The strained smile 88 shot back in response told him he needed to work on his comforting skills.

“That’s, uh, actually part of why I didn’t say anything,” Nightmare winced, “I was- I became a liability. Worse, I wasn’t expecting it and- a-and it was so dramatic! Completely embarrassing! If I had had some kind of warning, I could have sucked it up and helped like I had intended- and why are you looking at me like that?!”

His datemate stared at 88 like he’d never seen him before.

“Let me see if I have this right,” the Guardian started, “You didn’t tell anyone you had a serious injury because you were embarrassed about getting injured in the first place.”

“Uhhh,” 88 smiled into his lap awkwardly, scratching the back of his skull, “Well, when you put it like that it sounds-“

“-Completely foolish?” Nightmare scolded. His datemate flinched.

“...yeah.”

Nightmare took a deep breath. Don’t yell at the boyfriend, he doesn’t know you that well, don’t yell at the boyfriend-

He repeated this a couple of times before slowly exhaling. 88 watched him like a hawk the whole time, smile gone and body tense.

Some of his tendrils had gotten out in response to Nightmare’s agitation, and they flicked and waved around like multiple cat tails. One lightly slapped down onto the snow next to 88’s knee and he flinched, curling away with a hand half raised to his face.

He quickly corrected but Nightmare still saw; It would seem a new mystery has come to light.

However, the health of his datemate was more important at the moment.

“When we get back, and everyone wakes up, I will have Error Check you and tell me how bad it is. If it’s bad enough, I will find someone to heal you.” Nightmare sighed.

“Okay.” 88 quietly agreed.

Nightmare frowned and looked up at the taller’s face, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Except the other’s eye lights flickered between Nightmare’s face and his thrashing tentacles.

“Do they scare you?” He asked.

88 rubbed his neck vertebrae, “Sort of.”

“I can put them away-“

“No.” 88 interrupted quickly, “I just- Y-...you wouldn’t...hit me, if you got upset with me, right?”

Nightmare didn’t like that mystery anymore.

“No. Never.”

“Even if I really pissed you off?”

“Especially not.”

88 turned back to the edge and flopped back into the snow with a little laugh.

“Phew!” He sighed, “Man, you have no idea what a load that just took off me!”

Nightmare thought he had a pretty good idea, if the far more relaxed emotions he was feeling from the other were any indication. He hadn’t even noticed just how tense the other had (always?) been until it was gone.

“I don’t think I will ever understand you.” Nightmare sighed, turning to watch the taller more clearly.

88 waved him off lazily, “Give it a month or so; by then I’ll be an open book and you’ll be sick of me.”

Nightmare’s brows raised, “Is that so?”

88 yawned, “Yup. M’ real boring under all these sweaters. Completely see through.”

He wiggled his brows at Nighmare, “Ey, ey?”

Nightmare snorted, “Very humerus.”

88 beamed, “I thought so.”

Nightmare gingerly joined the other on the snow, twisting to face the cave ceiling. Silence fell between the two and Nightmare soaked it up, knowing when they got back to the house that silence would be hard to find again.

“Feel like ’m forgetting something.” 88 muttered, sockets lidded.

“Hmm?” Nightmare hummed.

“Somethin’ real important; but if it was, wouldn’ I have remembered it?”

Nightmare shrugged, “I’m sure it will come back to you soon enough.”

“Hmm...”

Nightmare felt his datemate’s emotions settle down, and slowly the familiar feeling of sleepy magic drifted over him and the snow around them; 88 having finally fallen asleep.

Nightmare grunted, pulling himself up and standing as quietly as he could before lifting the taller skeleton out of the snow and into his tendrils grip. 88 slept on peacefully, cradled gently against Nightmare’s back.

Time to go home.  
——

Dust woke up in the night to the sound of the couch protesting beside them. Alarmed, he turned over, bone attack materializing in his hand and the other firmly tangled in Horror’s shirt- not that he noticed.

A familiar goopy tentacle snapped around his mouth and Dust froze. 

“Wake him up and you’ll regret it.” Nightmare threatened.

Slowly the room came into focus, and Dust realized that somewhere in the night the Creator must have rolled off the couch; and now Nightmare claimed the empty space, leaning against the couch arm like a bored king with-

Was that 88’s skull in his lap?!

Dust grinned smugly and the tentacle recoiled back into the Guardian’s space, resting with two others over their host’s body possessively.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dust: sooo  
> Dust: When’s the wedding?  
> NM: I decided I’d ask him when you ask Horror out on a date.  
> Dust: wait, really?  
> NM: no you fool, that would take centuries.   
> Reaper: good thing you won’t have to wait that long. That little version of our bro is going to make sure of that.  
> Dust & NM: what does that mean?  
> Reaper: oh look, coffee!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! A chapter that’s longer than 600 words or so! I don’t want to jinx it, but IM BACK BABY!

Papyrus blinked awake groggily, the artificial ‘sunlight’ poring through his curtains and onto his face.

He yawned and stretched, before curling back into himself. Papyrus wasn’t going back to sleep though, he just wanted to bask in the great sleep feeling for a few second longer.

Well, time to get up! 

Papyrus calmly got out of bed, changed clothes, and quietly left his room; door clicking behind him.

First task of the day complete, he went over to his brother’s door. He raised a hand to knock, but quickly remembered the sleeping skeletons in the living room below and decided to just gently open the door.

Papyrus walked in a few feet and stopped, staring at the empty bed blankly for a moment.

Where was his brother? Did he go to work early?

Papyrus looked around the room for a moment before shrugging and walking back out, closing Sans’ door behind him. 

New task, find his brother.

The little bones took the stairs one step at a time, skipping that one step at the end that creaked as quietly as he could.

The light thump he made when Papyrus hit the floor told him he needed more practice.

“Papyrus.” A deep voice called softly from the couch. Papyrus shivered, but ignored the instinctive fear and walked over.

Some of these skeletons had really interesting voices, but of all of them only three made him automatically weary.

Nightmare’s was top on the list, followed by their newest guest Reaper and his brother’s best friend, Error.

Papyrus rounded the couch, then froze.

“Your brother had a rough night last night,” Nightmare murmured, “And apparently is much more foolish than I had originally believed.”

Papyrus took in his brother’s prone form, back to the world as he curled around what little of the goopy skeletons frame he could reasonably touch, and a strange black blanket Papyrus didn’t recognize covering all but Sans’ peaceful expression.

Ink laid on the floor beside the couch, dead to the world.

“Did you know he was injured?” Nightmare asked, snapping Papyrus out of his confused thoughts.

“Hurt?” He clarified, “I knew he wasn’t feeling all that good, but I thought he was just sad again. Is he okay now?”

Nightmare ignored the question, attention caught, “Sad?” 

Papyrus nodded, lowering his voice when he thought he saw Horror stir, “Sometimes brother gets sad, and does weird things.”

“Like what?” The Guardian wondered.

Papyrus stared at his brother thoughtfully, trying to remember the last one.

“...I think it was when Error and brother first started being friends. There was a week Error didn’t come over and Sans got really sad.” Papyrus hesitated, wringing his hands and looking around. He lowered his voice even more, until it was little more than a whisper, “I heard Sans talking to himself in his room once, he kept saying something like ‘Stop it.’ and ‘He’ll come back.’ He was really upset.”

Nightmare hummed, “I see, thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Are you going to make him sad too?” Papyrus asked.

Nightmare’s bone brows raised, “I do not intend to, no.”

The little bones frowned, “Then promise me you’ll keep Sans happy.”

The guardian hesitated.

Papyrus’ frowned deepened, “You can’t promise, can you?”

Nightmare frowned back, “Child, I am the embodiment of Negativity. I can’t promise your brother will always be happy around me.”

“Brother told me that all magic can be used for good and bad, that it’s up to people to ‘take responsibility for their actions and choices instead of blaming their problems on something that can’t act without another’s will’,” Papyrus took a breath, “He also told me that you aren’t as scary as you look and that you can’t make us sad or have bad dreams unless you really wanted to; are you saying you would want to do that to Sans?”

Unnoticed, Horror and Error listened on, having woken up earlier when someone said ‘Sad’.

“No, never,” Nightmare denied, “But life isn’t always kind, and sometimes things happen.”

“Then you’ll do your best to punch life in the face and tell it to back off!” Papyrus cried just a bit too passionately, accidentally disturbing the sleepers around them; except for 88 who could sleep through a cave in if he was tired enough.

Most of them fell back asleep, but apparently Horror and Error both concluded it was time to ‘wake up.’

Papyrus pouted guiltily at the two, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you guys up.”

“D-d-don’t worry about it Papyrus,” Error muttered, lightly landing on the floor under his hammock, “We had to wake up at some point.”

Horror nodded in agreement, stifling a yawn.

“What’s goin’ on anyway?” Horror asked, carefully untangling himself from Dust’s clutches. His friend always seemed to be clinging to him when he woke up. It was adorable, but also a real pain when Horror needed to get up.

Papyrus opened his mouth to answer, but Nightmare quickly cut in.

“I was just asking if 88 had mentioned being in pain to Papyrus.” 

Papyrus shot the goopy skeleton a squinty glare and huffed, reluctantly letting Nightmare go on. He hadn’t wanted anyone to overhear about his brother’s problems anyway.

At the mention of his friend in pain Error immediately took a shortcut over, dodging Ink’s sleeping body, and throwing the dark blanket off 88 and into Nightmare’s face.

88 shivered and curled in tighter, unaware of his datemate sputtering under his own darkness and Error’s subtly frantic visual scanning.

Horror, still stuck in the bone pile on the floor, untangled from Dust’s grip just a bit more urgently.

Nightmare finally decided to just absorb the blanket back into himself, face the picture of unimpressed.

“He’s fine, but we should have Checked him when he woke up a few days ago.” The goopy skeleton sighed.

“You should h-h-have woken me up immediately, Guardian.” 

Nightmare winced. 

“88 seemed stable, I thought a good nights sleep would help him gain some HP. I was going to have you look at him as soon as you woke up. Which you are.” He pointed out.

“If your decision somehow let 88 get worse, I will throw you into the anti-void and lock it behind you for days.” Error growled with a sneer.

Nightmare met his stare and nodded, “Fair enough.”

Error turned back to his sleeping friend and proceeded to block everything else out. 

Error performed a Check.

“Sans (88)”  
LV: 1  
HP: 25/20 (+5: well rested)  
ATK: ???  
DEF: ???  
EXP: 0  
NEXT: 10  
WEAPON: None  
ARMOR: None

*is having a strange dream  
*wonders if Nightmare actually does taste like apples?

Error couldn’t help the smirk that came to his face, but quickly forced it down; now was not the time to get distracted.

Instead he focused on performing a deeper Check, something that Error didn’t do often.

“Sans (88)”  
Species: Skeleton Monster  
Gender: Male  
ATK: ???  
DEF: ???  
HP: 25/20 (+5: well rested)  
Likes: Books, Friends, Brother  
Dislikes: Lying, ————  
Attacks: Giant Sharp Teeth  
Skills: Writing, Cooking, Diplomacy  
Soul: Damaged, Cut by ???  
Friends: Error (Best Friend)  
Relations: Papyrus, Ink (Adopted)  
Datemates: Nightmare  
Age: ???  
Residence: Snowdin Town  
Occupation: Sentry of the Royal Guard

*actually has many friends, but only one he would claim as his  
*forgot to tell Nightmare something important 

Error sighed, both relieved and more worried than before.

He turned to Nightmare, dismissing the Check information, “How did 88 get injured?”

Nightmare shook his head, “One minute he was fine, the next he was on the ground.” He shot a glare to their resident hostage, “Coincidentally around the same time the Death God showed up.”

Horror, having gotten free while Error Checked 88, nodded in agreement beside Nightmare.

“Cut by question marks.” Error muttered, turning to the hanging Reaper.

Said skeleton stared back, startling the glitch.

“G-!” He cut himself off quickly, not wanting to wake the other’s up.

“H-H-How long have you been awake?!” Error hissed.

“Whenever those two love birds came back from their moonlit stroll,” Reaper nodded in Nightmare’s direction, “And before you accuse me of intentionally harming your friend, maybe take into account that this Soul’s ability is very obscure and I had no way of knowing about it before hand.”

Papyrus spoke up before the other three could, “What ability?”

Reaper scoffed, “As if you don’t know.”

The four skeletons shared confused looks, and Reaper frowned.

“You really don’t know?” He asked, head tilting. How curious.

“Just t-t-tell us already.” Error demanded, knowing the death god could drag this on forever if he wanted.

“Alright, alright,” Reaper sighed, “To put it simply, that soul of his is also the core of this world; destroy either and the other dies with it. Separate them and they die, injure one and you injure the other.”

“Destiny Bond.” Papyrus whispered, eye sockets wide in awe.

The four awake adults snapped their heads over to the little bones with various looks of confusion.

“What’s that?” Horror asked.

“I-it’s a cartoon thing,” Papyrus explained, carefully rushing around the sleeping bones and opening the TV stand where his brother kept their movies. He pulled out a covered VCR tape that read ‘Pokémon’ on the front with a colorful illustration and rushed back over quietly, presenting it to Error.

As Error turned it over to the summary in the back, Papyrus continued on.

“In the show, these monsters have really neat magic that lets them do things normal monsters can’t, and they fight other monsters for fun.” Papyrus grinned, “It’s kind of cool, and gave me some ideas for my own attacks, so I tried to learn as much as I could about it. Ghost monsters in there can do some kind of magic that makes their opponent faint when they do, and they call it Destiny Bond.”

Error handed the tape case over to Nightmare, who practically snatched it away; Horror reading over his shoulder.

Error broke into a sweat, suddenly relieved that he had stopped Nightmare’s kidnapping attempt.

Nightmare handed the tape case over to Horror (who was a much slower reader) and fell into deep thought.

“Hey, kiddo, would you let me see that when they’re done?” Reaper asked Papyrus. The kid looked at him for a second, then nodded.

88 groaned and rolled over. Nightmare and Papyrus both had to quickly grab the Sans before he rolled straight off the couch and landed on top on Ink, who had so far been left alone to sleep.

At the same time, Nightmare registered a familiar calming wave of magic and growled.

Of all the times-!

There was a knock at the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaper: technically, if you think about it, 88 is the soul and we’re all inside his body  
> Error: no  
> Reaper: no?  
> Error: I know what your implying and I refuse  
> NM: What?  
> Error: he’s trying to sex the skeleton  
> NM:  
> Error:  
> Reaper: hey wait, what are you doing?  
> Reaper: no, hey, stop  
> Reaper: I’m serious! Stay back or I’ll-I’ll-!  
> *somewhere in 88’s world, Dream hears a scream of despair*


	34. Filler 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like the Christmas Party AU, but in a bad end timeline.  
> I actually wrote this awhile back when I asked for shipping votes, but held back on it because it was too early in the story for Dream to even show up, let alone have feelings for our dear 88.  
> Plus, in this story line NM and Dream went from fighting for the universe to fighting for 88’s love. But then cannon NM said fuck you to me and took over- claiming what is rightfully his damn it.

“Oh, hello!”

“Hey yourself~!” The skeleton greeted back, winking.

88 blinked, did he just?

The smug smirk on the skeleton’s face confirmed it, and 88 felt his magic explode onto his skull.

Behind him Dream quietly squawked and Nightmare’s tendrils thrashed.

88 cleared his throat and offered out a hand, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name mister...?”

“Just call me Lust, honey.” Lust smiled, taking the offered hand; but instead of shaking it, he lifted it up to his teeth and “kissed” his hand.

“Ohhh my-“ 88 swallowed, cutting himself off.

“So what’s a fine flower like yourself doing here?” Lust asked, letting him take back his hand. 

For whatever reason, 88 decided to flirt back. It wasn’t really a conscious choice, just an impulse that got ahead of his logic.

Face still glowing, he flashed his teeth in a sharp smile; not his scary one, but one that screamed, “I’m a smug bastard.”

“Soaking up the nutrients, I imagine,” He said, without really thinking about it, “Enjoying your radiance while I can.”

Lust paused, surprised; then giggled with delight, “Oh, that was smooth!”

88 felt himself perk up at the praise, spurred on by the positive reaction.

“Not as smooth as I’m sure you are. I don’t think anyone has ever called me a ‘Fine Flower’ before.”

Dream frowned, torn. On one hand his love interest was projecting some very positive feelings, something that was rare from the easily depressed skeleton, but on the other hand 88 was feeling proud of himself for flirting with someone that wasn’t him.

He and his brother may not have told 88 how they felt, and maybe they had their own little rivalry going on when the taller skeletons back was turned, but that didn’t mean some other skeleton could steal him out from under their noses!

Dream pouted and glanced over to his slightly taller brother. By the looks of it, his brother wasn’t pleased with the situation either. 

But did they dare interrupt?

“So,” Lust drawled out, “Would you want to maybe find a room...?”

Oh stars no! Dream mentality shouted, getting ready to go over there and start a fight. Nightmare’s tentacles froze as he tensed.

“Hmm, nah. Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested,” Their love gently turned down, making the two relax, “But I wouldn’t mind getting to know you if you’re up to it?”

What? No!

Dream marched over, just about to tell the poor unsuspecting LustTale skeleton where he can take his flirting coccyx, when Ink popped up in front of him and pulled him back over to his brother. Meanwhile the yellow and purple skeletons were blushing and giggling while whispering to each other.

“Ink, let me go right now!” Dream demanded, struggling in his friend’s hold. He wondered why his brother hadn’t tried to separate the flirting duo as well, but a glance over showed the goopy skeleton covered head to toe in neon blue strings and Error standing just beside him.

”Nope! This whole party was meant for 88 to make some new friends, so neither of you are allowed to interrupt!” Ink cheerfully said.

“Th-thats not friendship! That’s flirting!” Dream denied fretfully.

“He has a point.” Error pointed out, Nightmare grumbling beside him.

“Can you let me go now?” He asked darkly. Error glanced over and dismissed him just as quickly, which pissed off the jealous skeleton almost instantly.

Both Guardians twitched when they heard a particularly loud round of giggles from the pair up ahead.

Ink sighed, hands resting on his sides like a disappointed parent, “88 is having fun though, do you really want to interrupt that?”

Dream pouted and looked down. Nightmare sneered and looked away from everyone.

“You two are such babies. Do you really think 88 would fall for someone just from a little flirting?” Error sighed, “Hell, you’ve known 88 almost as long as me, Nightmare, and he hasn’t shown even a little interest in anyone this whole time.”

They all quieted down a bit, the gods watching the guardians with expectant gazes. Finally Nightmare turned back and muttered something they couldn’t catch.

“What?” Ink asked.

Nightmare sighed, “88 loves purple.”

“S-S-So?” Error asked, brow bone raised.

“So neither of us are,” Dream pointed out, “And I’m mostly yellow, a color 88’s already admitted dislike for because of his own magic.”

Error frowned and looked at his goopy friend, “But you are purple, when you’re not covered in negativity.”

Nightmare blinked, as if this just occurred to him.

“Plus, 88 is fond of both of you. You both help him when his emotions get too much or mute themselves, and he’s always going on about how nice it is to feel ‘emotionally stable for once in his life.’” Error went on.

Dream blushed and fidgeted with his gloves, flustered; his brother looked down with a “Tch!”

“Pfft, your both whipped!” Ink declared loudly, laughing at them.

“N-not so loud-!” Dream cried, quickly whipped his head over to his love’s direction. Yellow blew up onto his skull when his eye lights caught on 88’s own, the owner watching with a light frown.

“Oh no, see what you’ve done?” He whispered angrily to Ink, fighting the urge to smack his friend’s arm hard, “What if he heard us?!”

“Heard what?”

Dream felt himself go a bit lightheaded from the magic pooling in his face as he registered the familiar (soul melting) drawl of 88’s voice.

He turned around quickly, denials and redirections on the top of his tongue, but froze when he realized 88 was right. behind. him.

He squeaked, the best he could get his vocal cords to do.

Oh this could not get any worse.

Ink threw an arm around his friend with a laugh, “We were just talking about how awesome that comeback you made earlier was!”

88 frowned, “Comeback?”

“‘Soaking in your radiance,’ or something.” Error filled in. 88 glanced over, registered the still tied up form of a pouting Nightmare, and decided that he didn’t want to know.

The Sans grinned, pleased as punch, “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Ink agreed, “We has no idea you had something like that up your sleeves, where have you been hiding it Brother?”

88 fidgeted with his fingers, smile turning shy. 

Nightmare felt like Dream had just shot an arrow into his soul and Dream honestly couldn’t blush harder if he wanted to.

88 shrugged, “I may not be able to fire off puns with the best of them, but I’ve still got my wits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: I would do anything for love  
> 88: but I won’t do that  
> Lust: aw ok  
> 88: wanna be friends?  
> NM: boys, we have a new target  
> Dream: I’ll get my arrows


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my boy Dream, but sometimes I wonder about him. Blue wonders too.

Dream was forced out of the Sans’ dream surprisingly gently.

Most of the time when the person wakes up, Dream got ejected like a cannon ball into a brick wall; but this was more like rolling a bowling ball slowly down the isle and completely missing the pins.

Like a mental “Shoo, shoo,” instead of the more common “BEGONE DEMON!”

It was nice; no wonder Nightmare had stayed so long.

Dream himself blinked awake and looked around.

“Blue?” He called groggily, sitting up. Oh, Blue must have moved him to the couch. How thoughtful!

Blue stick his head out of the kitchen, “Dream? Your awake!”

He scurried out the kitchen and Dream made room on the couch for his friend.

“How did it go? Did you find him?” Blue asked, gingerly taking a seat; trying not to disturb his sleepy friend too much.

Dream yawned and rubbed his sockets, “N-no, but I found something else; something...better?”

“Better?” Blue repeated.

Dream nodded, “A classic Sans, I think. He-“ Dream smiled with wonder, “-he defended my brother against me.”

Blue raised a brow, “And that’s...good?”

“It’s wonderful!” Dream cried, practically sparkling, “My brother has a friend, one who actually seems willing to work with me!”

“That’s great!” Blue exclaimed, “But, uh, are we sure it’s not a trick? Cross was the same, wasn’t he?”

Dream shook his head, “Cross is a subordinate. Nightmare doesn’t befriend them, he adopts them; but this is a friend, one that isn’t the Destroyer of Worlds!” 

Dream paused for a moment and mumbled to himself, “Thoughthatmighthavebeenthesharedfriendhewastalkingabout.”

“What?”

“Nothing!” Dream dropped his hands on his friend’s shoulders and shook him, “But isn’t this great?! Maybe we can work something out this time, and I can see my brother without having to fight him!”

Blue pushed his overeager friend’s hands off when he started to get dizzy, “O-okay, h-ho-ow are we g-going to do that?”

Blue shook his head and blinked furiously, trying to get the stars out. He thought he saw Dream frown for a second.

“Actually, that’s part of the problem. I thought he was a classic Sans, but he wasn’t dressed like one and he only managed to tell me what number his AU was before he woke up.”

Blue grimaced, “Did you atleast get a nickname? It could help us figure out what version he is.”

Dreams face blanked.

“Oh, no. Dream don’t tell me you-“

“It’s fine!” Dream cut in, “I’m sure we can figure it out by process of elimination!”

“Do you know how many copies there are in the multiverse, let alone numbered 88?” Blue asked, exasperated, “At least a half a thousand!”

“Oh.” Dream started fidgeting with his gloves, “That’s going to be a problem.”

Blue watched his friend with a sinking feeling, “Why? What’s going on?”

Dreams fidgeting picked up speed, “I may have, sorta, poooossibly said that I’d meet up with them in a few days?”

Dream looked up when his friend got quiet, “Blue?”

Blue smiled a strained grimace, eye socket twitching slightly. He took a deep breath.

“Okay!” He shouted, making Dream jump, “If we’re going to do this, we better start now! Specifically, right after lunch!”

Dream dared not argue, feeling the bristling and boiling hisses of frustration rolling off his friend in waves.   
——-

The start of the search involved going into Ink’s Doodle Sphere and finding a specially made room for the Star Sans meetings.

Conveniently, it doubled as a sort of strategy slash map room. A giant pearly globe, absent of any marks, sat tranquilly in the center of the room.

Blue approached it first, giving it a soft pat, “Hello beautiful!”

It thrummed and glowed under his gloved hand, as if in greeting. It was just an interface, but Blue had spent many hours with this particularly brilliant piece of technology learning the ins and outs of its programming. He may have become just a bit attached.

(Dream felt it was perhaps just a tad more than attachment, but wouldn’t dare say it to his friend’s face.)

As Dream closed the door behind them, the white room darkened to pitch black and a galaxy of stars was born around them. 

Dream stared around him in awe. It didn’t matter how many times they did this, a hundred, two thousand; Dream was always left breathless.

Blue glanced back behind him, away from the gentle white glow of the globe he was still touching, “Alright, what was that number?”

“88,” Dream replied, walking over, “Is there a way to rule out everything else?”

“Is there a way to rule out everything else?” Blue repeated, offended, “Pfft, heck yeah there is! Come on beautiful, let’s show him what you can do!”

A holographic keyboard popped up and Blue started inputting information at high speeds, talking as he went.

“Main search: copy number 88. World type: all, aaand-“ Blue turned to Dream, who stood beside him now, “Oldest to newest, do you think?”

Dream shrugged, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Blue nodded, “We’ll go with that then. Can you describe the Sans?”

“Tall, humanoid skeleton,” Dream frowned thoughtfully, “I’m not sure how else to describe him other than just a plain old classic Sans.”

Blue raised a brow, “Thats not much to go on. Did you see what color magic he had?”

Dream tried to think back to the encounter and had the briefest flash of yellow come to mind, but the Guardian wasn’t sure about that and didn’t want to accidentally sidetrack their search with false information.

“I can tell you his eye lights were white,” Dream decided, “Does that help?”

“Actually, yes it does!” Blue smiled, typing something in before hitting enter on the keyboard.

Around them the galaxy transformed, some stars dimming and some brightening, all shifting in place as they moved either farther back and closer towards them; all in every color you could think of- though a great deal of them were various shades of red and blue. This part always gave Dream a bit of motion sickness.

There were still tons of stars left. 

Dream groaned, “This is what I get for being distracted.”

Blue patted him on the shoulder, “Atleast we narrowed it down this far. Imagine if there were more?”

They both shivered, grimacing at the stars around them. 

It would take almost every spare minute of searching (for two days) to find the exact AU copy Dream’s brother had holed up in, only breaking for food and sleep (which they did in the room).

Undertale Copy #88 was located on the fringes of the multiverse; so far removed from the other clusters of Undertales that both Dream and Blue almost completely missed it when they scanned that area.  
It was small, newly born, and very much the definition of a runt; for something that had declared itself Neutral to the entire multiverse (even if the multiverse hadn’t heard it yet) it was a surprisingly weak little star, and a shade of sickly blue.

They both still almost dismissed it outright because of that. Thinking there was no way Nightmare would ever hole himself up in some backwater AU that had probably only begun a few years ago; definitely not one that looked on the verge of collapsing into itself like it was.

Let it not be said that the two Star Sans were not thorough in their work, however; Dream still did his cursory check over the tiny place.

The Guardian of Positivity gasped, “BLUE! This is it!”

Blue took one glance at it before giving him a skeptical stare, “There is no way this is the place.”

Dream beamed, “But it is! Look, look!”

Blue walked up to the small blue light, watching the little screen that came up in front of it. It was a tiny window into the AU, but the quality was crystal clear.

Blue blinked. Once...twice...

“Is- is that Sans sleeping on your brother?! I thought you said they were friends!” Blue demanded, pointing at the screen.

He accidentally closed the window, and Dream poked the star again to bring it back up.

“But they are! Friends cuddle all the time!” Dream defended.

“Yes, cuddle,” Blue huffed, “But that is definitely not cuddling! That’s actually in my dating manual!”

Dream sputtered, “What? No it isn’t! Show me!”

Blue brought out the book from his inventory and opened it up to page 413, “Look, right there!”

Dream smushed himself in close to his friend’s side and scanned the page. Alas, there it was, under ‘Appropriate Touching Conduct.’

“No.” Dream shook his head, “I refuse to believe it!”

“But Dream, the evidence-“

“Who cares about the evidence! I’ll just find out for myself when we get there!” Dream cried.

Blue blinked, “Actually, what time is it?”

Dream watched his friend walk over and type in something to the keyboard. A large glowing 10:30 popped up above the bored.

“Huh.” Blue said, wandering back over, “What day was this meet up supposed to happen on, again?”

“Today, I think.”

Dream and Blue stared at each other for a moment, and then it clicked.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!” 

“I HAVE TO GET READY!” Dream cried, frantically thinking of how long it would take to get Blue home, then go home himself and shower, change into fresh clothes, and then maybe get a gift?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream: -and that’s all I know.  
> Blue: that wasn’t a whole lot, did you get distracted?  
> Dream: *has flashbacks: 88 laughing, 88 telling him off, 88 letting dream hug him, 88 helping him...*  
> Dream: of course not!   
> Blue: riiiiight  
> Dream: I totally wasn’t thinking about how pretty he was just now!  
> Blue:  
> Blue: you know what? I won’t ask.
> 
> *somewhere in the universe*  
> Undyne: I sense a new ship!  
> Alphys: *gasps* w-were?!   
> Undyne: idk babe, but don’t worry! I’m sure we can find it!  
> Alphys: y-your so cool U-Undyne!


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s throw in some world building! Our Star boys are way too curious for their own good.

Blue and Dream landed somewhere in the Wishing Room of Waterfall, surrounded by hundreds of glowing Echo Flowers and glittering crystals on the cave ceiling. 

“Wowie! Have you ever seen so many in one place?” Blue whispered, eye lights shining with stars, “And look! Their not all the same colors!”

Dream looked over in the direction his friend was staring at, and noticed a small collection of flowers dotting throughout the landscape, glowing a soft white-yellow and almost blinding in their contrast.

Something about them called to Dream, and without really thinking about it the Guardian started jogging over to them.

“H-hey! Wait for me!” Blue whisper yelled, quickly following after his friend and wincing when one Echo Flower still managed to hear and repeat him.

Dream didn’t really hear him, too busy trying to place the familiar feeling the flowers were giving off. Suddenly, he paused; hearing a whispered conversation between two flowers he was approaching. Blue almost ran right into him.

“Wha- why did you stop?” Blue scolded, voice nearly inaudible.

“Shh!” Dream demanded.

“You didn’t have to write an entire story just for me.” An Echo Flower sighed.

“Why not? Besides, you know I’m not all that great at drawing anyway.” Replied the flower facing it.

“Pfft, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Come on. You’re my best friend and I love you, can’t I just do this one thing for you?”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet.” Blue smiled. Mentally Dream agreed, but dragged his friend with him to the next two flowers; maybe if he hung around them long enough, he’d figure out what was so familiar about them.

“I think he’s the one!” A new flower sighed dreamily. The one beside it laughed.

“But you just met him!”

“So?”

“Ha! Whatever you say then; just be careful, okay?”

“Of course!”

“Huh, it’s the same two voices.” Blue noted.

Dream hummed, unsatisfied, “Let’s go to the next one.”

They didn’t have to get very close to the next two before they could hear the conversation. It was loud, but strangely not a single blue Echo Flower copied them.

Blue and Dream shared confused looks.

“-move in with him, you just met!” The flowers seemed to shake in anger at each other.

“It’s been months!”

“That’s not enough time to know someone! Can’t you just wait a year or more before moving in with him?”

“Look, I’m going to do it whether you like it or not; but I want you to support my decision!”

“Then I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Disquieted, the two Sans quickly moved on. 

The next flower was by itself, far off in a distant corner by the beginning of the path, and the two skeletons almost had to get right on top of it to hear what the yellow-white flower had to say.

Blue frowned, “What is that?”

Dream tilted his head, “Sounds like...writing?”

Suddenly a bang came from the flower followed by the sounds of something being ripped, scaring the two eavesdroppers.

“Damn it!” The flower hissed.

The Blue and Dream moved away from that one very quickly. They found themselves at the start of the arching entrance to the next room and stopped.

“Do you see any more?” Blue asked, still whispering as he scanned the area behind them; though he was beginning to wonder if they should just leave and head to Snowdin.

Dream shook his head, “Seems that was the last one. What do you think that was all about though?”

Blue shrugged, “Did you notice how none of the Blue ones spoke? Not even the ones around that last pair.”

Dream nodded, rubbing his arm nervously, “Maybe I can ask the Sans of this world. If anyone knows it’ll be him, I think.”

The two fell into thoughtful silence, listening to the soft lapping of water and the remote crashing of the waterfalls through the archway.

Blue sighed, “Well, we better get going. We’ll be late if we don’t get there soon.”

Dream giggled, tension draining, “But we never set up an exact time!”

Blue grinned and started walking to the archway, “If they’re anything like my brother, then we need to get to your brother’s friend’s place before lunch or they’ll be asleep for the rest of the day!”

The two giggled, but as they crossed the archway Dream paused, hearing something distantly behind them. 

Blue walked on, unaware that Dream had stopped, but the Guardian of Positivity turned back around to scan the flowers.

A thrill of fear zinged up his spine as he finally registered the sound of sobbing that was slowly getting closer, echoing down some of the blue flowers like a game of telephone; getting louder and louder.

Dream gasped and ran out, quickly chasing after Blue.  
——

“Tralala~ You there!”

Dream and Blue looked over, spotting this world’s River Person facing them from their ferry.

“Us?” Dream clarified, pointing between blue and himself.

“Yes, you! Did you two just come from Waterfall?” 

Dream and Blue glanced at each other, concerned.

“Yes. Why? Are we not allowed to?” Blue asked.

“No, no! It’s just that no one has willingly walked through that area in awhile; everyone is scared of it!” River Person assured. Not that it did that at all.

“Why is that?” Dream ask.

“Why, the Crying Room of course!”

Blue and Dream stared at River Person blankly.

“Tralala~ suppose you’d recognize it’s first name better then. The Wishing Room?”

“Ohhhh.” The two skeletons said.

“Awhile back, I’d day a few years ago or so, people started coming out of there scared out of their wits!” River Person shook their head (atleast Dream thought they did), “Only the brave and Temmies live there now. Everyone else says that if they stay in there too long the Echo Flowers start to cry.”

Dream shivered, suddenly knowing exactly what the Ferryman was talking about.

“Well, thank you for telling us!” He called. River nodded and rowed off down the river, leaving them alone.

Blue nudged him, “Do you think it’s your brother’s doing?”

Dream shook his head, “River person said years. My brother could have only found this place in the last two months at most.”

Blue hummed, “This is turning into quite the mystery.”  
—-

Snowdin turned out to be completely normal, and the two were able to locate Dream’s brother fairly easily after the Guardian sent out a light pulse of magic like a Radar.

Unfortunately, this meant Nightmare knew they were coming before they actually got to the door, but that was okay! The Star Sans’ weren’t here to fight him, they’d been invited; Nightmare had to know that, right?

“Do you want to do the honors?” Blue asked, watching the front door nervously. Dream eyed it as well, debating if the door could actually handle being knocked on as ducktaped covered as it was.

“I suppose I should...” 

Dream approached the door tentatively, knocking on it lightly.

Nothing happened, and Dream started to turned to shrug at his friend when the door popped open a crack.

“Go a-a-away.” The Destroyer said before slamming the door in Dream’s stunned face.

Blue let out an offended sound behind Dream and stormed past the Guardian up to the door, banging on it loudly.

“Error! It’s rude to slam doors in people’s faces!” He scolded.

“B-Blue!” Dream cried with alarm, “Be careful, the door might-!”

There was a strange CRACK, then the door slowly fell backwards into the house, landing with a THUD.

“-Fall apart...”

Eight pairs of sockets peered out from inside, all in various stages of shock or incredulousness. 

“Oooh, brother’s going to be soooo mad when he wakes up.” A small Papyrus sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue: Hi! My name is Sans, but most people call me Blueberry; Blue for short.  
> Ink: yes you are.  
> Blue: what?  
> Ink: but I like ‘em short.   
> Blue: oh. Ha ha, I get it; short joke.  
> Blue: but you know what? I’m taller, SHORTY.  
> Ink: *twitches*   
> Blue: I’ve seen Cherry’s taller than you.  
> Ink: *offended gasp* how DARE you?!  
> Blue: but you know what? It’s fine. You know why?  
> Ink: ...why?  
> Blue: because that means I’m the big spoon.  
> Ink: *K.O.’d*


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Horror ship it.

Blue paled, “I am so, so sorry!”

The short skeleton rushed in and picked up the door from the top, trying futilely to pick the entire limp slab of wood up and place it back on the door frame. Error watched him from a few feet away, torn between being proud of his friend’s hidden talent for demolition or worried about his other friend’s reaction to his front door’s early retirement.

This door was definitely done for this time. There was no way the damage could be fixed with anything less than a miracle.

“Hey, wait!” Dream cried, rushing in before Blue managed to block the entrance.

Nightmare bristled, still keeping 88 from falling onto the sleeping Creator with Papyrus while his goopy tendrils twitching and waving around behind him. Horror leaned away to avoid an accidental smack to the face.

Killer, still ready for a fight, raised a bone brow in amusement, “You having some trouble there, Star Sans?”

Cross smirked and Dust sighed, falling further back to join Horror. 

“N-no! Of course not! The Magnificent Blue will have this fixed in no time flat!” Blue assured, even as his smile strained and sweat ran down his skull with nerves.

And with that, the mood was ruined. Reaper pouted, having wanted to see a fight break out. 

Dream examined the fallen door more closely, “This may be beyond our capability to fix, Blue.”

Nightmare scoffed, “Of course it is. It was already on its last leg when you two so rudely came and put it out of its misery.”

Error nodded along from the opposite side of Blue in agreement, “It was only a matter of time.”

Blue whined, eye lights going small with guilt as he fidgeted with his gloves, staring at the ruined front door.

Dream shot his brother and Error a reproachful glare before patting Blue on the shoulder, “I’m sure it’ll be fine Blue, we’ll just explain what happened to this world’s Sans and I’m sure he’ll understand! It’ll all turn out for the best, I’m sure of it!”

“B-but, the Papyrus-“ Blue shot a nervous glance to the little bones version of his brother.

Papyrus noticed his glance and smiled; it wasn’t a very nice smile though.

Blue shivered, suddenly worried just what sort of people Dream had dragged him to meet.

No! Blue shook his head, I will not judge them before I’ve atleast spoken to them! I’m sure Dream’s friend is a perfectly sensible person!

Dream smiled, glad that his friend’s natural optimism had kicked in; his emotions were still twisted tightly together with nerves and guilt, but atleast there was determination and hope in there now.

Nightmare grimaced, looking like he’d just bit into a lemon instead of an orange like he’d expected.

Error looked around the room and sighed, “W-w-well, since you’re in here now, mind telling us w-w-why you’re here at all?”

“Didn’t the Sans of this world tell you?” Dream asked, “We were invited.”

Everyone’s eye sockets turned to the slumbering yellow skeleton, and the two Star Sans followed everyone else’s stare curiously. 

“Oh!” Dream cried excitedly, turning and pulling on Blue’s sleeve, “That’s him, Blue! That’s who I was talking about.”

Nightmare promptly let go of his hold in retaliation. Papyrus was forced to let go as well, unable and not expecting to hold a full grown adults weight. 

88 crashed down on top of Ink with a grunt.  
———

Ink grumbled and sleepily opened his sockets, having been woken up by something heavy landing on top of him. He sat up and glanced down, eye lights a faded blue question mark and a green spiral.

Brother grumbled and shifted, settling on top of him. Why was Brother on top of him? Ink looked around a bit more coherently.

Oh, he was on the floor. Ink must have rolled off the couch while he slept. 

The room around his was tense. Every one of the Dark Sans was standing around, glaring or staring at the front door where two brightly colored skeletons stood.

What was going on? Ink wondered, so he turned to the closest person, which just so happened to be Papyrus.

“Hey,” Ink called, “What did I miss?”

Papyrus, who stood at Ink’s feet, shrugged, “Those two skeletons knocked the door down, and now everyone is ready for a fight, I think.”

Ink glanced back over to the front, this time really looking at the two new faces.

“Oh hey! Dream and Blue! It’s been awhile!” Ink shouted at the two, gaining scathing looks from the skeletons around him.

Something whined and gripped him tightly around his chest, and when he looked down Ink startled, “Oh. Whoops.”

Ink lightly rubbed his brother’s back, whispering, “Sorry Brother, forgot you were there.”

“Ink!” The two gasped out at the same time. 

“Where have you been?!” Blue scolded just as Dream asked, “Are you okay??”

Ink floundered around a bit before managing to somewhat sit up, “Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Blue threw up his arms with a scoff (“Why do we ask?” He mocked.) and Dream frowned, “You’ve been missing for weeks. We were starting to think something happened to you!”

Brother grumbled and pressed his face further into Ink’s shirt, mumbling something.

Ink turned back around and blinked down at the skeleton, “What was that? I didn’t catch it.”

88’s head tilted up just enough to expose an open, lightless socket, “Sh’dup. Tryna sle’p.”

“Oh.” Ink’s eye lights shifted to a faded blue circle and purple diamond, “You should probably wake up though. I think Nightmare might try and kill someone soon.”

Brother continued to stare up at Ink with his empty socket before sighing and reluctantly pushing himself up.

“Drink s’me paints, yer colors are fadin.” He mumbled, letting Ink pull himself from out of under him and shifting to sit on his heels.

“Oh! Thanks for reminding me!” Ink beamed, before taking swigs of his vials at a fast pace and jumping up with renewed energy to go tackle his two comrades.

88 managed to keep himself up for all of 30 seconds before slowly flopping over, leaning on the couch in a very awkward position.

“No brother!” Papyrus whined, grabbing onto his brother’s shoulder and pulling back, away from the couch, “You can’t go back to sleep, you just woke up! We still have to make pancakes!”

88 groaned, “But sleep...”

Nightmare watched the pathetic display with quickly dying rage. 

The Guardian would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt even the littlest bit betrayed when his brother informed them of being invited, but if nothing else this reminded Nightmare that his boyfriend was a sweet, oblivious dork who would never actively hurt anyone.

The goopy skeleton grimaced. No, it was Nightmare himself who was like that; for a moment he’d even contemplated breaking his promise along with some of his datemate’s bones after dropping the skeleton onto the Creator.

Nightmare sighed and pulled his boyfriend up by his armpits with his tendrils (which ended up with him holding the other high over the Guardian’s head so his feet didn’t touch the floor), “88, you have to wake up. You have guests and a hungry brother to cook with.”

(Dream watched them interact with interest as Ink went on a lengthy tangent over everything that happened the last few weeks.)

88 stared down for a moment with blank lidded sockets before letting out a sigh. The skeleton blinked and the familiar white lights reformed, gazing tiredly into Nightmare’s one teal light.

“Pancakes, huh?” He mumbled, “‘Kay. You want any sweetheart...?”

Nightmare could tell right away that the other was only half awake now, but it was enough to convince the shorter skeleton that 88 wouldn’t fall on his coccyx the minute he put him on his feet.

“Please.” He answered, knowing he’d be getting some whether he asked for them or not.

The minute his feet touched the ground, 88 turned with a huge, jaw cracking yawn and walked towards the kitchen; patting Papyrus on the skull as he went.

Papyrus quickly followed his brother, making sure he didn’t bump into anything in his state.

Nightmare watched them both disappear into the kitchen before turning back to the group of skeletons around him.

Horror and Error were grinning at him smugly while Cross, Dust, and Killer watched him in various stages of confusion; Ink and Blue had stars in their eye lights, though Ink also had a green question mark in one socket. 

Reaper...well actually, Nightmare was purposely ignoring that one. Dream was the one that really caught his attention anyway.

Is that a hint of jealousy? He wondered, feeling the brittle emotion briefly appear in the fluffy cotton of his brother’s normal emotions.

“Hey Boss,” Dust asked from beside Horror, “Did something happened between you two?”

“Why do you ask?” Nightmare asked, pushing down the smug smirk that really wanted to come out.

“It’s just, 88 called you sweetheart and you didn’t try to skewer him alive.” 

The Guardian hummed, “Now why would I punish my datemate for such a thing?”

“DATEMATE?!” Killer and Dream shouted while Dust’s jaw dropped. Ink frowned in confusion.

Reaper and Error laughed, but then the two shot surprised looks at each other. Error quickly looking away with a blushing scowl while Reaper stared at the other longingly.

Horror’s single red eye light shakingly shifted into a Star, and Nightmare was both nauseated and pleased with the feeling of smooth pride and warm happiness the other was feeling; not unlike the swap Sans’ own feelings on the subject if the absolute shining glee the skeleton was radiating was any indication.

Shippers, Nightmare scoffed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus: *glaring from the kitchen archway*   
> 88: *yawns* paps, can you bring me the milk?  
> Papyrus: *absently uses magic to open fridge, get milk, and put it on the counter where 88 can see it: still glaring out into the living room*  
> 88: *stares at it tiredly before shrugging* never mind bro. It got itself.  
> Papyrus: good to hear brother.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Nightmare finally gets flustered

88 stared down at the plate of pancakes groggily, not really seeing them anymore.

Somehow he had gotten here, sitting in front of a full plate that smelled lovely but was pushing all the “Don’t eat: Not hungry, will make you sick,” buttons; but how?

There were people talking around him, and he knew at least two were asking about him, but 88 kinda really didn’t care at the moment.

A small hand shook his shoulder.

“Brother, do you want a cup of coffee?” A young voice asked softly. 88 blinked and turned to the owner.

Oh, it’s Pap.

88 stared down at his brother, who watched him expectantly.

“Maybe Papyrus should ask him again?” A rough voice wondered.

“N-N-No, 88 will answer in a moment. Now shut up, your going to distract him.”

Hmm, that sounded like Error; maybe he could give the glitch his pancakes?

“Brother?” 

Oh, right- his brother asked a question. What was it again?

Coffee.

Oh, right. Did he want any? No, not really. 

We might need it though.

Need it? Were we that out of it?

We’ve been staring at our brother for 5 minutes.

88 blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to get the cobwebs out. All it did was make him dizzy, but atleast he could remember how to speak again.

“Mmno, ‘m good.” 

Papyrus raised a skeptical brow, “Do you know where you are right now?”

“...the table?” He mumbled.

“Do you know why?” 

88 stared at his brother blankly.

“Coffee it is.” Papyrus sighed, walking away to the...kitchen?

88 mentally shrugged and turned back forward to his plate.

“Pretty weird right?” A lighter voice asked, “It’s like me off paints!”

“Is it?” A louder voice wondered.

“Actually, it does remind me of the few times I saw Ink paintless.” A gentle voice answered.

88 thought he could hear a slight reverb in that one’s voice; but then again, the entire room was sort of...blurring...

88 startled awake when something clacked loudly in front of him. Someone snickered.

“Here is your coffee brother, please don’t fall asleep again.” Papyrus scolded, going back to his seat to eat between his brother and the new skeleton, Dream. That one had been way too eager to sit next to his brother.

88 stared down at the steaming liquid before him, taking a delicate sniff.

Oh, that smells lovely, he thought, I want it.

88 reached out for it, but the world was sort of doubling for a second and he ended up missing the handle by an inch.

Error sighed beside 88 and gently grabbed his lost looking friend’s hand, guiding it to and through the mugs handle. 88 blinked and slowly brought it up, taking a sip before just holding it with both hands.

Error waited patiently, used to this particular quirk of his friends.

A minute passed, then two, and then 88’s eye lights slowly got more solid.

“You with us n-n-now?” Error asked.

88 looked around with a frown, “Who made breakfast?” 

Nightmare raised a brow beside Error, “You did. Did you forget again?”

Nightmare was used to this too, but still wasn’t all that sure of what to make of it. This strange state of being didn’t happen every morning, but the Guardian had noticed that the shorter the sleep, the harder 88 was to wake up; even if it was a restful one.

88 sheepishly took a sip, “Woops.”

Suddenly a flash of gold caught the Sans eye socket, and he turned to look.

White met gold, and 88 watched as his boyfriend’s brother waved happily to him while munching on his own stack of syrup soaked pancakes.

88 turned back to his mug and looked for anything odd. 

He looked back up and Golden Boy was still there.

He looked back down to his mug, sniffing for something off. 

He looked back up, and Golden Boy was looking at him with a worried frown.

88 sat the mug down. 

“Does anyone else see the Guardian of Positivity sitting over there?” He asked, mostly to Error and Nightmare but definitely to anyone who could answer.

Nightmare glared down at his food, stabbing it with his fork, “I am trying not to.”

Error sighed, sipping on his own mug of Hot Chocolate, “You invited him, remember?”

Nightmare looked up from his (pouting) glaring when his boyfriend didn’t answer, just to see 88 staring blankly towards Error. Perhaps those two had been around each other too long, because Nightmare could almost hear the broken fax machine sounds going off in 88’s skull.

“Ah. So I did.” 88 said.

Dream and Blue sighed, relieved.

88 carefully pushed back his seat and stood up, walking over to the Guardian of Negativity to stand behind him. The whole table watched on curiously, wondering what the taller skeleton was up to; Nightmare watched him more wearily.

Seeing he had his boyfriend’s attention, he bowed. This wasn’t just any bow though, this was a formal bow: arms stretched out before him, forehead almost touching the ground, coccyx firmly planted on his heels.

“I forgot! I am so sorry, Nightmare!” Came the muffled apology.

Error choked on his drink, and the entire table fell silent with shock. 

Nightmare’s visible socket widened, and he desperately fought the magic trying to flood his cheeks with color.

“W-what the hell are you doing?!” He cried, tendrils curling in on themselves (hopefully where no one could see).

“Apologizing!” Still muffled, “In the most formal manner I can think of! Because you’re awesome and you deserve it!”

Nightmare pulled his tendrils in before anyone could see them practically dancing on his back.

“Okay! You’ve made your point!” Error cut in, choking finally under control, “Now get up!”

88 thought he heard a couple people giggling; Stars this was humiliating.

“Does Nightmare acknowledge my apology?”

“Yes!” Nightmare cried, “Now get up and eat your damn breakfast!”

You didn’t have to tell him thrice! 88 practically dived for his seat, face burning with yellow.

At least he gave it his all though, right? His boyfriend had to know he was sincere now, right??

Well, he wasn’t looking up to check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *later, while everyone is asleep*  
> NM: he did it, even though it embarrassed him  
> NM: in front of everyone  
> NM: just so I’d believe he meant it?  
> NM: *hides face with hands* maybe just this once.  
> Dream: that’s nice brother. Please don’t ever let him do that again.  
> NM: *startled hiss* You! How long have you been there?!  
> Dream: literally the entire time  
> Dream: that’s right  
> Dream: I saw you blush, BROTHER.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbvC8dhRcg0

The air is filled with the smell of ozone...it fills you with determination.

Do you wish to [Save]?  
———————-

“Can I watch Mettaton now?” Papyrus asked, sitting his empty cup down. 88 glanced up from his embarrassed silence and quietly scrutinized his plate; seeing it empty, he nodded.

“Just make sure you put your dishes in the sink.” He reminded. Papyrus cheered and stood up sharply, making his chair screech against the floor. The little bones stacked his dishes neatly before rushing into the kitchen.

88 sighed, hearing the plate land a bit too roughly onto the base of the sink, “Don’t break them or you’re cleaning it plus the rest of the dishes!”

Papyrus just giggled and ran out of the kitchen, speeding all the way to the back of the couch. Without hesitation he jumped forward, planted his hands on the back of the couch, threw himself up into a handstand, and let himself fall backwards to land neatly in the middle of the couch.

88 facepalmed while the rest of the room gaped, with the exception of Error who was completely unfazed and Ink who was mostly contemplating if 88 would let him do that or not.

Even Reaper was a bit impressed from his place in the living room, tied up to the ceiling. However, he really wanted that coffee more.

“Since when could your brother do that? We’ve been here forever and he’s never done that before!” Dust demanded, Horror nodding frantically beside him. Cross and Blue practically sparkled in awe, while Killer pouted.

(“I can do that too!” He muttered, crossing his arms. 

Cross turned his starry gaze to his partner, “You can? That’s so cool!”

Killer smirked and dropped his arms, puffing his chest out a little.)

88 sighed, “Papyrus, what have I told you about parkour in the house?”

(Dream blanched, “He’s done that enough for you to make a rule?”

Nightmare smirked, mentally cheering on Papyrus. Anything his brother doesn’t like is fair game to him.

Error saw his friend’s smirk and rolled his eye lights, taking a sip of his cooling cocoa.)

Papyrus turned and peered guiltily over the couch back, “Don’t do it in the house?”

The yellow skeleton stared his brother down, and Papyrus broke into a nervous sweat.

88 sighed, “I’ll let it go this once”- Papyrus let out a whoop, “-but do it again today and there will be consequences.”

Papyrus mock saluted, “Aye, aye, Captain!”

The taller skeleton huffed and shook his head, turning to Dust and his comrades.

“Would you be willing to join him?” When Dust looked ready to protest, 88 cut in, “I just don’t want Pap to get any weird ideas. Last time there was a new episode of MTT, that robot said that adding glitter to every meal would make you shine from the inside out. I had to hide every bit of it for weeks or Papyrus would make himself sick trying to eat it all.”

“Oh come on!” Papyrus cried, “I did that once when I was five! I’m older now!”

88 deadpanned, “That was less than a year ago.”

Apparently that little fact was enough to convince Horror, and he stood up quickly; dragging Dust out of his seat by his collar (“Ack! Horror what the hell?!”), across the floor, and to the foot of the couch.

The ragged looking Sans shot a glare at Cross and Killer, “You two, get over here.”

Wisely they did so, piling around little Papyrus, who was wiggling in place excitedly with a giggle.

(They left the dishes behind though...)

88 watched Horror set everything up before turning to Blue.

“Do you want to join them as well?” He asked.

“Yes! Can I?” Blue almost shouted. The taller skeleton’s smile strained, not fond of the sudden volume shift.

“Go for it.” 88 shrugged. Blue took off with a “MWEH HEH HEH!”

Dream sighed and reached for his juice, “Please forgive his exuberance, I think the syrup finally kicked in.”

The familiar sound of the metal monster talking started up, and 88 did his best to tune it out. Stars he hated those kind of shows.

“He’s fine. A little excitement never hurt anyone.” 

“So is there an actual r-r-reason you sent the children away?” Error muttered.

“I already said my reason,” Error gave him a doubtful look, “...okay, fine. You caught me. I’m trying to get these two-“ 88 pointed between the two Guardians, “-away from everyone else so they can talk. I was going to drag them outside.”

Nightmare protested, “And what if I don’t want to speak to this...Glow stick?”

Dream frowned, “Atleast I’m not a sludge ball.”

Ink “ooooh”ed, Error deadpanned, and 88 frowned. They could not be starting what he thought they were starting.

“Well, you’re a flashlight!” Nightmare hissed.

Dream gasped, “And you’re an Oil Tanker!”

“Happy pill!” 

“Natural disaster!”

“Fool’s Gold!”

“Fermented apple!” Dream cried.

Nightmare huffed and stood up, “You take that back you insufferable Sun Spot!”

“Boys!” 88 cut in, “Cut it out, or you’ll be cleaning my dishes instead.”

Nightmare sneered and crossed his arms, but quieted down much to the surprise of his brother.

“Heh, whipped.” Erro smirked into his mug. The Guardian of Negativity turned to his friend with a warped grin and hissed, tendrils raised threateningly.

“Oh my gosh! Brother, Mettaton is fighting a human!!” Papyrus called.

88 and Dream kept their eye lights on the dark colored skeletons, worried the two would start trouble, “That’s nice bro.”

Ink’s attention was caught though, and he wondered over to watch from the back of the couch, head tilted.

The two of the dark Sans were tense though, recognizing this exact scenario from previous experience. Horror and Cross continued watching, unsure why their love interests were getting so tense. Blue’s grin started to fade.

“Nightmare, please don’t hit him in my house.” 88 asked.

“Perhaps we should go outside?” Dream gently prompted.

Nightmare just turn and hissed at his brother too.

“Um, Sans?” Papyrus called shakily, “The human doesn’t seem to be doing very well.”

“That’s ni-“ 88 cut himself off, actually registering what his brother was saying.

Alarmed, he stood from his seat quickly, the chair scrapping behind him loudly. The two Guardians and Destroyer snapped their heads around to watch him, a mix of curiosity and concern in their sockets when 88 ignored them and quickly walked over to stand next to Ink.

88 squinted then paled, “Shit. Here we go again.”

Papyrus tilted his head up to look at his brother, “Can’t we stop Mettaton from-“

There was a sickening crack from the screen, and suddenly 88 and Papyrus were at the table again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Queen’s “Don’t stop me now,” plays in the background while I sip on a sweet tea*
> 
> Me: mmm. Nothing like inflicting chaos and potential suffering to make my drink taste sweeter.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Forty chapters!

The TV was off, Papyrus’ plate and cup were sitting on the table half empty, and the little bones was looking around a bit dazed.

The room had gone silent and no one dared speak, but he didn’t need eye sockets to know everyone had turned to watch him and his brother. 

It had only just started, but Sans already felt so done with this entire thing; all he wanted to do was hide, but if the kid Reloaded again then hiding would just make things more awkward.

Sans pushed his chair back a bit (a sound that rang unbearably similar to nails on chalkboard in the quiet) and crossed his arms, placing them onto the table top and laying his head down on them. Any energy he may have gotten from the coffee practically drained out of his body through his bare hands and feet, and Sans was sort of glad he hadn’t changed his clothes; the multiple layers made a decent enough pillow.

“B-...brother?” Papyrus whispered from beside him, hands twisting together, “What just happened?”

For an unbearably long moment, Sans considered just not answering; but then he really couldn’t justify it to himself. 

He couldn’t even really bring himself to act super surprised that Papyrus remembered this round of Reloads. He’d sort of theorized that prolonged exposure to foreign codes would effect his brother somehow; he was just sorry it had to be his memory.

Sans exhaled heavily into his arms and turned his head to the left, “A Reload. The human was-“ he hesitated, “-Injured, so they rewound time to a point where they could prevent it; problem is the kid is a sucky fighter, so now we’re stuck here. Strap in bro, and pray to the stars the human gets a clue.”

He caught a wiff of his barely touched plate of pancakes, and Sans’ nonexistent gut rolled. He pushed the plate away and hid his face again.

“I...see.” A pause, “S-so this has happened before?”

Oh-ho-ho, no; Sans did not have the energy to open that box of regrettable memories.

He awkwardly shot a thumbs up from under his elbow, but otherwise didn’t move.

A chair scraped on the right as someone stood, then a shuffle and some footsteps that stopped right at his side.

“Hey,” A glitchy voice called much lower to the ground than Sans was used to, followed by a poke to the ribs, “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Sans peeked under his arm, and sure enough Error was crouched close beside him, looking right up at Sans’ face.

Damn it Error, Sans thought, tilt his head away, Just let me hide and wallow.

Except when he turned, Sans’ dim eye lights met with cool teal just as something cool and flexible wrapped around his hips. Sans tensed, uncomfortable, before realizing what it was and relaxing.

“He’s right, and you’re working yourself into a dangerous spiral.” Nightmare murmured, very aware of the worried Papyrus and fretting Dream sitting behind him. He could feel his brother trying to work his magic on 88, but Dream had no way of knowing just how futile such an attempt was; his boyfriend felt whatever he felt, and no magic could influence his 88 otherwise. All Dream was managing to do was make Nightmare feel like he was slowly baking.

“If the human is so terrible at defending themselves, why don’t you help them?” Blue wondered.

Nightmare cursed under his breath as 88’s eye lights dimmed further, feeling and seeing the huge fog of concrete gray hopelessness curl into itself and hide under the skeletons sweaters, no doubt encircling his soul like a shroud. Nightmare shot Error an urgent glare from under 88’s hunched form.

Error peered over the table, a stern glare on his face, “Blueberry, don’t you think 88 would have done that already if he could?”

Blue grimaced, glancing around at the glaring Dark Sans sitting around him, “Sorry, I just wanted to see what we’re working with. Maybe we can figure out a solution?”

Dream flinched from the spikes of purple anger, but curiosity got the better of him.

“Why can’t you help them?” He asked quietly.

The spikes tingled a dark, deep shade of maroon- deeply set frustration, bitterness...helplessness? 

“I just can’t.” 

Nightmare’s glare was as cold as it could get, but he didn’t acknowledge his brother past that.

“That’s fine, we will work something out with you, something that you can do. But for now I need you to- Ugh- think happier thoughts.” He groused.

For a second it seemed to help, 88 even let out the lightest smirk; but as if to completely undermine any progress the two darker skeletons had made, a Reload occurred.

The only reason anyone was aware it happened was because of the little Papyrus’ startled gasp and 88’s suddenly straight posture. Still, they were the only two to be involuntarily moved.

Suddenly freely facing the worried (pitying) faces of his friends (strangers really, what did he know about them?) and overwhelmed with the need to cry, Sans did something rash.

His choices boiled down to almost nothing in an instant; Scream, Run, or Cry. 

Crying was for the pathetic, and so was crossed off the list furiously. Screaming was for the dramatic, and would only be problematic later; plus, no one had ever listened when he screamed before.

Running was the only real option he had, but he couldn’t do it with Nightmare’s tendril holding onto him. It just wouldn’t work.

Decoy then.

“Nightmare, could you grab a pillow from my room? It’s going to be a long day.” Sans sighed.

Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it-

Reluctantly his boyfriend withdrew from him and stood up, dragging his feet to Sans bedroom, glancing back worriedly every few steps.

When Nightmare finally took a shortcut into his room, Sans stood up and walked over towards the kitchen, startling Error into standing.

“Where a-a-are you going?” Error demanded, starting to walk after his friend.

Dream caught on in a split second when the taller one accidentally let his panic show through, spinning on his heel to dodge the Destroyer’s grasping hand and instead marching quickly by the Guardian of Positivity.

“H-H-Hey, wait a second!” Error cried, alarmed.

Dream, knowing he only had a small window of opportunity, latched onto 88’s sleeve just as the yellow skeleton shortcutted away.

Error froze in disbelief, having missed his best friend’s hand by centimeters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 88: *quickly falling into a depression spiral of hopelessness and helplessness and panicking because he wants to cry but is too scared to do it in front of others*  
> 88: I know, I’ll run away! It’s the more mature Options than the other ones!  
> Literally everyone else: no it’s not  
> NM & Error: *worried mother henning*


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First half of the chapter: https://youtu.be/0grF5chwtCA
> 
> Second half: https://youtu.be/qft36hUnpr0

Dream stumbled on uneven ground, not expecting the rough ride or drastic change in environment. He’d thought the other would hole up in his room, or maybe somewhere bordering Snowdin, but not-

Dream looked around quickly.

-Waterfall? No, the Crying Room. Why here?

88 snapped around quickly, ripping his sleeve out of Dream’s hold, “Why did you do that?!”

Dream flinched away.

“Y-you shouldn’t be alone right now,” He tried to placate, hands out before him, “Especially not without anyone knowing where you went.”

“Ha! What, do you think I’m going to hurt myself or something?” The Sans laughed.

Dream winced, “Maybe not, but no one should be alone when they feel like this.”

“And what do you know about how I feel? How could you possibly begin to know how I feel?!” The taller demanded with a sneer.

“I know you feel alone, that no one can help you,” Dream dared to take a step closer, “But it’s okay! I can help you; we can all help you!”

“I don’t want your help,” 88 scowled, “I want you all to leave me alone!”

Dream took a determined breath, squaring his shoulders and looking up to stare 88 in the sockets.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.” He said.

The Sans face fell, eye lights searching his face before putting on a cruel sneer.

“Even if I screamed at you? Even if I tried to beat you within an inch of your life?” 88’s magic built up threateningly around him.

Dream held his ground, even as his hands shook a little, “Even then.”

88’s shoulder’s fell, at a loss.

Behind them, a few feet away, Dream could hear a familiar yellow Echo Flower.

“-my best friend and I love you, can’t I just do this one thing for you?”

88’s chin trembled a bit, eye lights fuzzy.

“You can’t possibly know what it’s like,” 88’s hands clenched tightly together, shaking, “To just wake up one day and everything you knew and loved is just- Gone.”

Dream flinched but pressed on, “I do though! I was incased in stone for over four hundred years, and when I woke up everything was- was-“

“Not like this, not like me!” Sans forced down a sob, “M-maybe everything sucked, maybe I didn’t have the best life; but it was my life! I fought every day to keep it, to make good choices and avoid my predecessors mistakes! I tried so hard!”

“And you did a great job. Look at what you have now; Friends who care, people who love you, a home!” Dream tried to assure.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”

Dream stumbled back, feeling a shockwave of magic infused negative emotions pass through him painfully, pushing back the Echo Flowers around him slightly.

One of them turned a blinding yellow-white, and the magic it radiated out was painfully familiar to him.

Sans slumped his shoulders and let himself cry freely, not seeing a point in holding it back anymore.

Dream took a shuddering breath, yellow tears blurring his vision. For a moment there he had felt something so familiar, so painful. For a moment it felt like he was back at the Tree, his mother, watching his poor Night-Night wither and scream at the top of his lungs as oil as black as the void pored out of his eye sockets, nose hole, mouth, and Stars knew where else; gurgling, choking, blinded, terrified, bones cracking from the pressure of the oil trying to escape and so, so alone.

Dream couldn’t get to him then, couldn’t save him; all he could do was watch helplessly.

It hurt.

Another shudder ran through him, then another, and another; and then Dream was on his knees in the soft dirt, hands covering his eye sockets as tears streamed out of him. He desperately tried to hold in his sobs, but it just didn’t seem possible.

Sans shakily gasped in a lungful of air, “D-Dream?”

When Dream continued to sob on the ground Sans rushed over, kneeling in front of the smaller skeleton.

“D-Dre-“ Sans hiccuped, hands hovering by the Guardian’s arms, “Dream? A-are yo- Are you o-okay? Wh-what happ-“ a desperate inhale, “-H-happened?”

Dream keened, hand pressing over his apple shaped soul, “Is- Is th-this how you f-feel? It-“ he coughed, curling into himself a bit, “It h-hurts, it hurt-ts!”

Sans breath hitched and he withdrew, a whole new round of tears flooded out of his sockets, “I’m s-sorry, I-“ a whine pitched his tone higher, “I can’t d-do anything ri-right, I’m so sor-sorry!”

Even though the emotions radiating off the other physically burned, Dream launched himself at Sans, arms wrapping tightly around the taller’s ribs, “N-no! No!”

He tried to take a deep breath and calm down, but it was so hard! 88’s helplessness, his powerlessness, was so old, so deeply rooted; Dream didn’t know where to even start!

“Y-you feel th-this all the t-t-time?” He asked, “A-all this p-pain?”

In all that negativity, there was a spark.

88’s arms wrapped around his back, shaking like they weren’t sure about how welcomed they were.

“Y-you can feel it? Can act-t-tually feel what I’m feeling right n-now?” The taller breathed, sniffling loudly.

Dream latched onto that spark. Maybe his magic won’t work here, maybe the easy way wasn’t an option now, but damn it; Dream is the Guardian of Positivity! 

He leaned back just enough to look up at the yellow skeleton’s tear streaked face, “Yes! Y-yes I do! So please, let m-me help you!”

88 sniffled, “I- I can be helped? It c-can stop?”

Both froze a bit when an oil black mass of tendrils wrapped around them from behind 88’s back, but relaxed slightly when two pairs of arms wrapped around 88’s shoulders with them.

“O-O-Of course it can, you idiot.” Error muttered into the back of 88’s shoulder, ignoring the glitches sprouting up everywhere they touched. Nightmare rested his chin on the other shoulder and started humming strangely; but 88 couldn’t help but relax even more.

When he dropped his head down, Dream smiled up at him.

“See?” The Guardian sniffed, “Your not a-alone. You can cry, and we won’t judge you for it.”

Sans vision blurred and his shoulders shook. 

Had anyone ever told him he could cry? Hugged him after he screamed? Ever even chased after Sans when he ran?

Before he could stop it, a wail tore through his teeth, “I want to go home!”

The three around him tensed before hugging him even tighter. Sans couldn’t even see Dream anymore.

It meant he had no way of knowing that his wish had sort of come true. That the human had Reloaded and they’d all been brought back to the table. That Nightmare had knocked away the chair the minute he saw it and that they were all huddled up on the floor.

Everyone had gone to look for 88, so only Papyrus was there to see his brother completely break down. 

Papyrus was a wise child; he decided to wait until his brother felt better before going up to him.

“We’re here, 88,” Error murmured, nuzzling his friend’s shoulder, “We’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sniffles* frick, this turned so fucking feelzy. Ugh, I’m such a wimp for hurt/comfort.


	42. Filler 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all deserve a break on the plot for a moment. So here! A glimpse into the future!

Anyone who had ever seen Nightmare: the Guardian of Negativity knew the skeleton as intimidating, cruel, possibly completely off his rocker, and liberally covered in goop. Constantly.

The Nightmare 88 currently held in his arms as he walked up the stairs and entered his room was nothing like that at the moment, and it was sort of hilarious how small Nightmare actually was without the goop to fill him out.

Don’t get him wrong, his little lover was still his usual self (if somewhat more easily spooked) and he still had his tendrils to beat the hell out of trespassers (not that they had any at the moment); just, now he was more...meek? Maybe tired is the better word here.

88 carefully sat his expecting lover on the mattress, fluffed up the pillows behind him, and pulled the blankets out from under him to tuck him in. Nightmare leaned heavily against the pillows and groaned as a particular ache was eased on his lower back.

“I told you.” 88 sighed, plopping face first onto his side of the bed.

Nightmare huffed and crossed his arms over his middle, “This is a lot harder than I’d thought it would be.”

88 glance up at him with a single socket, “Error warned you several times-“

“-and I didn’t listen.” Nightmare groaned, “Yes, I know.”

88 watched him for a second before sighing and closing his sockets, “At least it’s only for a few more months, and then you’ll never have to do it again.”

Nightmare frowned and rubbed the blanket under his hand, “...what if I want to do it. Again, I mean.”

88’s sockets snapped open and he pushed his front up to lean on his elbows, “What?”

“I-I mean, it’s not so bad. There’s the endless back aches, sure, but...” Nightmare’s cheeks turned a light purple, “We’ve gotten to spend more time together, just you and me-“ he grumbled, “-and my brother; I’ve honestly never felt safer in my life, and-“

Nightmare smiled in awe, “-we’re bringing a new life into the world. Something one of a kind. How many Sans get to say that?”

88 smirked, “You just want a small army of children who will love you and beat everyone else up, don’t you.”

Nightmare giggled, “Maybe a bit.”

88’s smirk smoother down into a smile, and he laid back down.

“Just be careful with that ambition of yours. If Dream hears it, he might start a competition.” He murmured.

Unseen, Nightmare’s smile turned evil.

Even if Dream started pumping out kids like a hose, Nightmare was sure to beat him. He refused to lose to his glow stick of a brother!

Said glow stick joined them in bed a few minutes later (turning all but the lamp light off that sat on the bedside table next to Nightmare), rolling 88 over closer to Nightmare and crawling under the covers with them. 

Nightmare pulled out his book and started reading out loud.

“In a far away land, on a far away world, our protagonist woke to the sound of bells in the distance...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NM: my babies are best babies  
> Dream: no mine are!  
> NM & Dream: *growl and hiss at each other*  
> 88: boys, you both wrong.  
> 88: my babies are the best babies.  
> NM: what?  
> Dream: but they’re all your babies?  
> 88: exactly!


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I thought I was done with angst. Turns out angst wasn’t done with me.

It took 4 hours, 25 minutes, and 31 seconds for the Reloads to end, not that anyone was counting.

The search party returned before the first hour was up in small groups of two; Horror and Dust having searched the area around Snowdin, Killer and Cross around New Home, then Blue and Ink who searched around Hotland and the Lab.

88 hardly moved the entire time, just sitting in the bone pile and crying. 

The first two hours the boys hadn’t done much but cuddle him, but as the third hour passed they began to speak around him. Nothing serious, just stupid jokes and silly memories they could remember. The apple twins even seemed to strike a small truce and share stories of growing up in a time where you had to entertain yourself.

(Ink stayed out of it, knowing he wouldn’t be much help to his brother.)

Surprisingly it helped, and 88’s tears finally saw an end; he even cracked a tired smile. Eventually, Error seemed to nod off. 

‘Dinner time’ came around and, since the Reloads had finally stopped, everyone who wasn’t some sort of deity went out to Grillby’s for a breath of fresh air- minus 88, who didn’t think he could take leaving the pile right that second.

The house suddenly felt too big.

——  
Error froze in disbelief, having missed his best friend’s hand by centimeters. 

Around him chaos erupted, even Ink finding the situation appropriate enough for a sip of Purple and Blue.

Error didn’t care, he was still staring at his hand. He’d never felt so slow in his life.

He’d been right there! Error was right beside him; so why did 88 run? Weren’t they friends? Didn’t 88 trust him?

Nightmare popped up at the bottom of the staircase, a hand clenched tightly around the fabric of a limp pillow.

“What the hell is going on down here?” Nightmare demand.

Error couldn’t bring himself to speak, his hands starting to shake.

Around him voices started to fizzle out, noises blending into each other.

Why did he go? Why didn’t he let Error help? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhy-?

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Error woke up with a gasp, blinded by the glitching error signs in his sockets.

“Easy Error.” A voice murmured before him. Error flinched back, not immediately recognizing the owner under the static in his own head.

“Get o-o-off me, you d-d-damn abomina-na-nation!” He hissed, shoving the hand off.

Following muscle memory, he brought a hand up to a socket and pulled, bringing out a handful of strings threateningly.

Who ever it was, they chose the wrong time to mess with him!

An oily tendril snapped around his wrist before he could throw the strings forward, “Error, stop!”

What the hell?! Error followed the tendril with his sockets, vision and hearing very slowly clearing.

“N-N-Nightmare.” Error murmured, recognizing the glowing teal light through his darkened vision. With a start Error realized he was on the floor by the table.

Why was he on the floor? Had he crashed? Why weren’t they out there looking for 88? The Reloads were still going on! His friend needed him!

Error looked forward and locked eye lights with Ink, who stared from his own spot kneeling on the floor; Dream watching from over his shoulder. Ink’s piercing white eye lights seemed to stare through him, and Error immediately bristled.

(When did Ink get on the floor? Wasn’t he with the other’s by the TV? Hadn’t he just taken some paints?)

“What the hell-ell-ell a-a-are you looking at, s-s-squid?” He demanded.

Dream frowned and leaned closer to the Creator, the movement distracting Error from noticing Ink’s emotionless features do it’s best to scrunch up in confusion.

Before Dream could say anything, Ink popped his head out from over the dining table a few inches away from Error’s face.

“The TV?” He said, tilting his head.

“AAAAH!” Error screeched, his other hand raising up and copying his trapped hand’s previous motion, throwing the strings out and catching the Creator around his neck vertebrae. Error pulled him off the table and threw him onto the floor, barely missing the startled first Ink.

“THERE’S T-T-TWO OF YOU?!” The Destroyer cried, scooting back like a cockroach had fallen before him instead.

Nightmare sighed from beside him and smacked Error on the back of the head, “Of course not, you fool! Get your head out of the clouds!”

Error hissed and clutched the back of his skull.

(Just what was going on? The second Ink had colors and shapes in his sockets, so who was the first?)

Luckily when he looked back up, the pesky socket glitches finally died down and Error could finally see details he’d missed.

Like the fact that the first Creator was actually just his overly exhausted best friend.

His overly exhausted best friend who’d just had a severe breakdown.

The one who he just called an abomination and tried to attack.

“88!” Error gasped and threw himself forward (Ink had to roll away quickly or risk a knee to the skull), just barely stopping himself from touching the taller skeletons face when 88 flinched away, “Are you okay-ay-ay? Did I hurt you?”

88 shrugged, shadows under his eye sockets, “I’m okay.”

“Yes, nothing like waking your friend up from a nightmare only for them to turn and attack you.” Nightmare mocked prettily.

Error flinched, but 88’s expression stayed dull and uncaring. Dream and Ink stayed silent.

“It’s fine. He couldn’t see.” The Sans muttered, “Besides, there’s something more important to talk about right now.”

That caught all the godlike Sans’ attention.

“What’s wrong?” Nightmare asked.

“The human beat Mettaton, so now they only have two choices now; go back and rest, or continue on to New Home,” 88 informed, “Depending on their choice, I’ll either be leaving in a few minutes or a few days to meet them.”

The Guardians didn’t get it, but the Gods knew exactly what 88 meant.

“It’s the beginning of the end, huh?” The Creator wondered, the slightest smile on his face. Error’s reaction was the complete opposite, startling the confused twins.

“No!” The Destroyer jumped up onto his feet, fist clenched tightly, “N-N-No! We just found you, just finally settled down! We-“ Error faltered, “We c-c-can’t loose you now!”

88 pushed himself up, grunting as a vertebra in his spine popped. The Creator popped up like a spring behind him, leaving the twins to scramble up in a panic.

“W-wait!” Dream cried, “Hold on, can someone please explain just what is going on?”

88 sighed, “My world isn’t finished, and the kid is one fight away from deciding the fate of it. If they kill the King, then we get a Neutral Ending and the human will probably Reset the world and try again from the beginning; if they don’t , there’s a chance of time being Reloaded once more and they try for a Pacifist Ending.”

“That...doesn’t seem that bad though?” Dream wondered; beside him Nightmare grimaced, something about the word ‘Unfinished’ jogging his memory.

“Except we have no way of knowing any Ending won’t automatically start the decay of the world.” The Guardian of Negativity muttered.

Dream shook his head, “We- we could guide the child into the Pacifist Route! It would buy us time and we can come up with a better plan to save-!”

But Nightmare and Error were both grimacing at the floor now.

88 and Ink seemed just as confused as Dream, looking between the two dark skeletons.

“Is there something I don’t know about?” 88 asked.

Nightmare sighed, “Reaper revealed that you and your world are bound together earlier today,” he tilted his head towards Dream, “Before the walking floodlight ever showed up.”

Error cut in, “If one of you is destroyed, or separated, you’ll both die.”

Dream’s apple shaped soul dropped, and he snapped his gaze over to 88’s face. Ink took a small gulp of Blue beside him.

88’s face didn’t change even a little, but his pallor seemed to grey out a bit.

“Ah.” 

“‘Ah’?” Error repeated in disbelief, “Y-Y-You’ve just heard that the end is coming in more ways then one-ne-ne, and your only response is ‘Ah’?!”

“Error!” Nightmare scolded sharply.

“Oh, Sh-Sh-Shut it Octopus!” Error snapped, “You’re thinking the same damn th-th-thing, I know it!”

88 scratched the side of his skull, “I don’t know what you want me to say Error, there doesn’t seem to be much I can do here.”

Error turned to his friend furiously, “I want you to say it won’t happen! I want you to get angry and make plans around it! I want you to atleast try and fight it! Not-!”

He stumbled over his next words, “-Not whatever this is. Please don’t just-“ Error waved his hands around, tearing up, “-accept it!”

It would be so much easier on them if you did, something sinister whispered quietly to 88, think of how much easier it would be on them if you didn’t exist anymore?

88 stiffened with alarm, but Error mistook it as a reaction to his tears.

“Shit, s-s-sorry.” He muttered, furiously wiping his face, “You’re the one who might die and I’m over here being a babybones about it.”

“No.” 88 shook his head clear, blinking, “No, it’s fine; It’s okay. This isn’t easy for any of us to digest, you’re allowed to cry about it.”

Nightmare carefully patted Error’s shoulder, quickly so as not to catch on the glitches that sprouted up.

Ink was frowning, the Blue paint letting him tear up as well. Dream latched onto his friend, both to comfort the Creator and himself. 

88 took all this in, his face setting into stone even as his mind was racing through his options.

(He didn’t want to think about that- that slimy, intrusive THING that just spoke to him.)

Neutral Route: If the kid can safely Reset the world, then this was a good option; the problem lied more in if the human had killed anyone yet- in which case, 88 would HAVE to convince them to do so- but if the world could handle the back to back Reloads, then the skeleton could assume with some surety that a Reset won’t be the end of the world. And him.

Pacifist Route: A dead end, literally. If the kid did that one, there was no way his world would survive it; there was no Happy Ending here.

Genocide Route: Ha! The most risky option yet! On one hand there was a possibility that the human won’t Erase the world, but that chance was fifty/fifty at best! 

88 thought of Dream’s plan. If they let the kid go on without killing anyone, then he’d have to fight Flowey- the same flower asshole who absorbs the human souls and takes over the save file, erasing everything in the world if 88 remembers correctly.

That might possibly be even more risky than the Genocide option. The human always got stuck in big fights with different mechanics atleast a few times, and Flowey’s fight was hard if you didn’t know what to do.

The kid had never given up when things got tough, but everyone had a breaking point; and Flowey was a sadistic shit.

“We have to convince the Human to take the Neutral Route if he hasn’t already.” He concluded out loud.

Dream paled, “B-but that means the human has to kill someone! Wouldn’t it be better if we showed him a better path?”

Ink must have thought along the same line as 88, because he turned to his friend with a frown.

“I don’t think there’s much of a choice here. Genocide is an automatic no, since there’s no guarantee that the world won’t crumble quicker than the Human can reach the end and hit the Reset button-“ oh shit, 88 hadn’t thought of that, “-and the voices seem to think that there is no happy ending to this AU, so going that way is just asking for trouble.”

Error blinked and looked up at the ceiling with a frown. He flinched back but then shook it off, listening to something before nodding.

“The squids right. The voices are loosing their shit right now and keep screaming about the end coming.” Error frowned in confusion and looked between Dream and Nightmare suspiciously, “Although, they’re also screaming something about babies? Are one of you pregnant?”

88 shot the twins startled looks and both blanched crying, “NO!”

Nightmare frantically waved his hands in front of him, looking at his datemate with wide sockets, “I swear I’m not!”

At the same time Dream feverishly thought out loud, “Who would I even do such a thing with? I have responsibilities, and- and-” 

Ink snorted, “Oh man, I wish I had a camera right now.”

“Ink!” Dream cried, scandalized. He smacked the Creator’s arm hard.

“This is a highly inappropriate time to be making jokes like that!”

Error tried his best to hide a giggle as well, but Nightmare still heard it and turned with the intent to murder the glitch.

Reaper snorted and giggled freely, enjoying the show.

88 rubbed the back of his neck vertebrae and decided that it might be worth a short to try his hand at a deal with the Death God one more time.

While the four were preoccupied, the taller sans walked over to Death the Elder.

“So,” he started, “You’ve turned down every deal I’ve ever offered you.”

Reaper smirked in his bindings, “And all the ones you’ve yet to come up with as well, I imagine.”

88 stared at him for a moment before sighing.

“How about a different kind of deal then.” He offered. Reaper gave him an interested look.

“You’ve been here the entire time. You’ve watched, and flirted, and eaten my food; you’ve seen how quickly things have gone to shit.”

Reaper reluctantly nodded, “Yes I have. What’s your point?”

“I’ve been watching too,” 88 stated, “And you think Error is Geno.”

Reaper jerked back, as if slapped.

“How do you know that name?!” He whispered harshly, head tilting up to look at the still squabbling party of skeletons.

The reaper sighed with relief when none of them seemed to have noticed the conversation behind them.

“I want to make a deal with you, and I want you to take it.” 

Reaper grinned sharply, “Blackmail, huh? I knew you were hiding something mean up your sleeves.”

88 huffed, “I’m trying my best not to feel insulted. This AU is Neutral Ground, not ‘I’ll let everyone step on me atleast once’ ground.”

That actually got a surprised laugh out of the bound skeleton, but he shoved the amusement down.

“What do you want?” He asked instead.

“You don’t attempt the murder of my friends here or outside my AU unless it’s their time or they do something incredible stupid knowingly, and not only will I help you and Error get back together (provided that’s what Error wants) but I’ll also set you free with the invitation to come back whenever you want. You can get back to your job and still be able to annoy the shit out of all of us- provided the world sticks around long enough for that to matter.” 88 offered.

Reaper’s smile could make small children cry, “I do my job and get a wingman? Seems simple enough.”

“But do you agree?” The yellow Sans pushed.

“88? What are you doing over there?” Nightmare called, pausing in his attempted homicide.

Reaper nodded, “Yes.” 

The room filled with a static charge and 88 saw a thin flash of yellow glint Between the two, like a spider’s string in the light.

Error gasped behind him, and 88 watched the blue strings holding the Death God be sliced apart, letting Reaper free for the first time in a good while.

Reaper landed gracefully on the carpet, the shredded strings fluttering around him like blue confetti, “Ah! It’s so good to be free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/EShUeudtaFg
> 
> Error: Could you be...Pregante?!  
> NM & Dream: NO!  
> 88: *selects: Run Away  
> 88: *its Super Effective!  
> NM: *chases after* wait! Babe! I swear I’m not!  
> Dream: ...this is YOUR fault!  
> Error: *shifty smirk*  
> Ink: *laughing himself to death in the background*


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the best I could do right now. It’s really hard to write when all your hands want to do is fidget and all your head wants is to do is literally everything else.  
> I hate thats it’s so short, but I’d rather have something up then nothing at all.

“88, w-w-what the hell?!” Error shouted, rushing over; part of him wanted to smack the exhausted skeleton into next week, while another feared what Reaper would do to his captor now that he could move.

Behind him Nightmare hesitated, nervous, before taking a shortcut some feet from behind his datemate and quickly pulling 88 back to him with his tendrils. Error quickly got between the two and Reaper, glaring daggers at the Death God.

Dream prepared his bow and Ink- well, Ink didn’t actually do anything except watch. His brother had let the god go free, so he trusted Brother to know what he was doing.

It didn’t really matter though, as Reaper had sockets only for the glitch.

The Death God smiled, “Don’t worry, your friend and I have a deal. Killing him off now wouldn’t benefit me at all.”

Both the Destroyer and yellow skeleton sneered and said, “Gee, thanks.”

Everyone paused and the Creator burst into laughter, clutching his middle as he hunched over.

Error’s sneer fell into a frown and he turned his head to the side, eye lights still firmly on the threat.

“D-d-did we really just say the same thing j-j-just now?” He asked 88.

88 grimaced, practically feeling the amused smirk on his datemate’s face behind him.

“It would seem so.” He replied.

“Perhaps you two have been around each other too long after all?” Nightmare offered, resting his chin on 88’s shoulder. Contrary to his relaxed posture, Nightmare’s tendrils tensed up even more; positioned like a threatened tarantula.

Dream couldn’t help his own smile, his stance relaxing. The atmosphere had changed, and the ‘threat’ wasn’t displaying any negative emotions, so he didn’t see any reason not to join Ink in his amusement.

It’s was even funnier when he realized the Destroyer and 88 were both radiating similar feelings of exasperation, and couldn’t help his own giggles.

Reaper took a step forward and instantly Error snapped his head back forward.

“Don’t move, you s-s-stupid sadistic shit!” He warned, hand pulling threads from his socket threateningly.

Reaper’s grin grew more genuine- almost beaming even, “Am I a sadist? That explains some things.”

He might as well have punched Error dead in the face (heh) with the way the Destroyer stared at him.

“Right,” Reaper’s reluctant wingman drawled, “So can we move on to more important things, or do you two need an audience for whatever weird hate flirting kink you’ve got going on here?”

Error sputtered, face exploding with color as his glitches worsened, “88, what the hell-ell-ell?!”

“Oh no, please stay,” Reaper grinned widely, “We love voyeurs.”

Ink started rolling on the floor and Dream put away his weapon, shamefully giggling into a hand.

Nightmare just huffed a laugh, head turned to hide his smile in his datemate’s neck vertebrae. 88 shivered, both parts uncomfortable and pleased.

Apparently this was too much for the poor Destroyer of Worlds, and he quickly crashed.

88’s face fell, “Shit.”

He hadn’t meant to tease his friend that bad.  
——-

Papyrus fidgeted in his seat, looking around nervously at the decor around him.

“What’s wrong Paps?” Horror asked from across the table.

Papyrus frowned, “Are you sure Sans is okay? I don’t really get what exactly just happened, but I’ve never seen brother so upset before.”

“I’m sure your brother will be just fine!” The newest skeleton (Papyrus thinks he said his name was Blue?) tried to assure, patting Papyrus’ shoulder, “And from what I gathered, this hasn’t happened in a long time too; so everything should be fine once your brother calms down!”

Papyrus looked at the hand touching him then looked up at Blue dispassionately, “Right...”

He turned to Dust, “What do you think?”

Blue pouted in his corner seat.

Dust grimaced, head resting on his hand, “Honestly, Blue is probably right-“ (“See?!” Blue huffed, but was ignored.) “-but this isn’t really a problem I’ve dealt with before. My human just went around and mur-“ Cross threw a wadded up napkin at his skull, “-...fought people until they gave up; they got hurt sure, but never enough to constantly Reload like your’s has. Resets, sure; but after a few times I figured out a solution and put a stop to that.”

Papyrus perked up, “Resets? What are those? How did you stop them?”

“Uh...” Dust felt himself sweat, glancing over to see Horror, Cross, and Blue glaring at him; Killer just giggled at his misfortune.

“I, uh...asked the kid nicely?” He tried.

Papyrus squinted at him doubtfully, but before he could ask Grillby showed up with their food.

Dust sagged with relief, then tensed up as he spotted Blue’s ‘I’m watching you’ motion.

“....?” Grillby asked, placing a plate of fries in front of Papyrus.

“Oh!” The little bones smiled, “Brother isn’t feeling good right now, so our new friend Blue offered to pay for our food this time!”

Blue’s sockets widened with horror as he frantically shook his head at the bar owner, hands waving spastically in front of him, “N-no, I never said-“

Papyrus smacked a hand over his mouth without looking away from Grillby.

“........” Grillby tilted his head in acknowledgment, finishing putting their food down, “.........”

Papyrus beamed, “I’ll make sure to tell Sans. He’s been meaning to give you some new recipes anyway.”

The fire elemental sparked in happiness and nodded at them all before going back to the bar.

Papyrus finally removed his hand and turned to his food, digging in.

Killer laughed from beside the little terror, “Kid, you are pure evil!”

“Wa do ah mean?” Said terror asked around his food, looking at Killer then his other dinner companions who were watching him; torn between being impressed or disturbed.

Blue had pulled out his wallet and stared down at the gold inside like he was about to sacrifice his life savings.

Cross sighed through his own grin, “Don’t worry Blue. We’ll won’t actually make you pay for everyone.”

Blue looked over to him with teary sockets.

“Oh thank the stars!” He breathed, relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh btw, there’s a Side Quest/Filler Chapter coming up soon; so if you have any questions for the characters, I’d go ahead and ask.


	45. Announcement!

WARNING: This is not a chapter!

So I’ve got good news and bad news.

First! Everyone who’s been reading my author’s notes knows I’ve been having a rough time with my ADD and Writers Block lately. Well, in an effort to inspire some fresh ideas, I went and reread every chapter.

It was around the 30th chapter that I felt something was wrong. It wasn’t really all that obvious to me at first until I had this passing thought of, “Isn’t this going a bit fast?”

An idea struck me and I grabbed a piece of paper, this time combing through every chapter and charting down a timeline of events.

Guys, I made a huge mistake. From the moment Error and 88 met to the latest chapter- all that was in the span of 5 weeks, 5 days.

It’s going too fast! The relationships are progressing too far in too little time; but I can’t fix that at this point. So there’s only one thing I can do.

So here’s the bad news: I’m going to stop updating this story.

Here’s the good news: I’m not giving up on this story, not even a little! Instead I’m going to rename this one as the old version and start up a remake. It’ll be grueling, an absolute nightmare, but I’m Determined to do it!

(God, I hope the new one is better.)


End file.
